Dreams and Reality
by Water-smurf
Summary: [TFTM G1] The deceased Autobots weren't supposed to die, and the Reaper knows this. They have another chance, but they need to enlist the living for help. Can they get the living to understand their riddles in time to avoid their own destruction?
1. Awakening of the Deceased

Quicky summary first.

They weren't supposed to die. Ratchet, Ironhide, Wheeljack, and all the others of the battle of 2005 were not supposed to die. The Grim Reaper is willing to give them another chance, but the problem is they are the ones who have to bring themselves back to life, and they have to save the living from their own demise. That is hard when your only access to the land of the living is dreams! Sometimes, you have to enlist the aid of old friends and riddles to achieve your ends…

_Where have all the soldiers gone?_

_Long time passing…_

_Where have all the soldiers gone?_

_Long time ago…_

_Where have all the soldiers gone?_

_They've gone to the graveyard, everyone._

_When will they ever learn?_

_When will they ever learn?_

--Where Have All the Flowers Gone by Pete Seeger and Joe Hickerson

--

Darkness. There was darkness everywhere. Not even in the purely physical sense, but there was a lack of sound, scent, taste, or anything, and this infectious darkness seemed to have leaked into his mind.

He couldn't remember anything. He couldn't think. He couldn't so much as let out a moan through his vocal synthesizer. The darkness swelled and lapped at him like a hungry ocean. The ocean swelled once more, then retreated, leaving him in a vast nothingness so empty that it was devoid of even darkness.

He grasped onto errant feelings like a life support vest. Unexplained feelings, unnamed feelings, unpleasant feelings… They were there. He didn't know how or why but they were there.

Feelings evolved slowly into thought. As though he were working with cut and paste, he labeled the feelings spinning through his processor. They were feelings of loss, desperation, and regret.

Now why did he feel all that?

Memories bubbled to the surface. At first it was only wisps of images. There was the image of a mech working on an unknown project while he spoke with him. He seemed somewhat detached from the memory, and he could see a mech that was him, but wasn't, speaking with the other mech now. Perhaps, the mech he was but wasn't was someone he once was or was to become? But that would be impossible. One couldn't see what they would become; they could only see what they once were.

The two mechs were talking, but he couldn't understand what they said. He couldn't understand speech anymore. He didn't have to; the mechs' expressions were enough. They were friends… weren't they?

The wisp of memory faded and sunk into the pool of memories flashing before him. An especially insistent one came forward. This one wasn't as nice as the last one; this one was of terrible things, of war and destruction. He felt a new emotion at the sight of these things. He felt fear. It was fear for the mechs in the burning blaze of war, he remembered.

He shoved the evil memory away. A gentler one entered his mind with a feather-light touch. He saw himself smiling and talking with a couple other mechs. He could understand snippets of the conversation. He heard one of the mechs he was talking to talking excitedly about a project it was working on. Odd blinkers on each side of its face flashed a happy light blue. He heard himself say that as long as the mech with the odd blinkers didn't blow itself up, he was happy.

He felt himself sliding into his past entity with more and more ease. Faces flashed across his processor, and he labeled them with feelings rather then names. Faster and faster did the faces come, and more and more memories came to greet the faces. Names arose and mixed with memories, thoughts mixed with feelings, and suddenly he found himself in a whirlpool of the past and present. Through the vortex he found his own name.

Ratchet.

Ratchet's optics snapped open and he shot into a sitting position, chest heaving for air. The air was cold and it stung the sensitive metal inside his mouth and air recyclers, but that didn't matter. Everything around him was pitch-black darkness. He saw he was on a stone floor, but that was all he could really see.

Ratchet ran a hand across the floor. To accomplish what, he wasn't sure, but he needed to do something with his hands. How had he gotten here? What did he remember last…?

The shuttle! Ratchet tried to jump to his feet but his newly awakened legs wouldn't hold him so he crashed ungracefully to the ground. Uncaring, he composed himself physically while emotionally he was in a turmoil. The Decepticons had invaded the ship and shot Brawn and Prowl badly. From what he had seen they were at the very least critically wounded, and then he himself was shot.

He sifted through his memory of the incident. Obviously he wasn't in the shuttle anymore and he felt fine, no harm detected. Ironhide must've contacted the Autobots after all, or maybe another ship nearby had saved them…

But it didn't make sense. What was this place? It was certainly not a shuttle from a third party, or Autobot city, or Cybertron for that matter, so where was he?…

A slight moan broke into his thoughts. Ratchet peered into the darkness in search of the source. He reset his optics to see through it better, and he gasped slightly at what he saw.

Sprawled less than gracefully on the stone ground was Wheeljack. Ratchet crawled to his friend and turned him over to get a good look at him. He seemed uninjured. It was just then that his optics flickered on.

"Ratcheeeetttt…" Wheeljack murmured. He sounded as though he hadn't spoken in years upon years, and his vocal processor must've been taking its sweet time getting properly rebooted.

"I'm here, old friend," Ratchet murmured just as quietly. He noticed that his voice also sounded like he hadn't spoken in a long time. Both of them felt the mutual uncertainty hanging around them like a thick blanket. Neither knew what this place was, and both were strangely afraid of it. Neither of them had to say it, but the friends had always been able to read each other easily. They just sought silent comfort as Wheeljack's vocal processor rebooted.

"Ratchet, what happened? The battle… Autobot City…" Wheeljack said, attempting to talk despite his current vocal problem. Ratchet cocked his head slightly.

"Autobot City? I don't remember that. All I remember is that the Decepticons were taking over the shuttle Prowl, Ironhide, Brawn and I were flying," Ratchet said.

"I remember the Decepticons jumped out of the shuttle you were flying and stormed Autobot city. I was fighting with Windcharger and…" Wheeljack's blinkers flashed a confused orange. "No… that can't be right… I remember getting shot by Blitzwing at point-blank range. That should've killed me…"

Ratchet frowned in puzzlement. "You're right, it should've. Then again, if you're right about the Decepticons coming out of our shuttle then they would've successfully hijacked it, and that would mean I should be dead too," he shook his head. "There are too many questions here. We should see if anyone else is here, and then we decide what to do."

"Then we will be deciding soon," a familiar voice echoed from the abyss. Wheeljack sat up and he and Ratchet looked towards the voice. Prowl, Ironhide, Huffer, Brawn, and Windcharger seemed to materialize from the darkness. Ratchet and Wheeljack stood up, leaning on each other for support.

"Guys! How…?" Ratchet asked. Ironhide chuckled.

"Prowl here woke up abou' fifteen minutes ago. We were all close t'gether so he was able to get us up," he said.

"We searched the place already. You guys are the only other Autobots we found," Brawn said.

"Any idea where we are?" Wheeljack asked.

"No," Prowl said simply. Huffer grumbled to himself.

"I already hate this place! It's cold, it's dark, and there're no slagging doors! Where in the pit are we?" he grumbled angrily. The medic and engineer looked at him, surprised.

"There aren't any doors?" Ratchet asked.

"Then what is that?" Wheeljack asked, pointing behind the newcomers. Everyone looked to see what Wheeljack was pointing at to see a small trail of a lit up passage, leading to a large door.

Everyone was silent for a long moment.

"Where did that come from?" Windcharger asked no one in particular. Brawn scowled at the door.

"Someone's toying with us, and I don't like it," he growled. Prowl waved it off.

"It's the only chance we have to figure out where we are. Let's go," he said. They all started off to the door, Ratchet and 'Jack able to walk mostly on their own now. The door swung open invitingly and let the wayward Autobots inside.

Behind the door was another stone room that had a lot better lighting. There was a fire at the center of it a there was someone sifting through several tapestries and papers next to it.

"God damn it, what is with the Tecklahians and killing each other? Jesus Christ they would drive me to an early grave had I been able to die…" the 'someone' muttered. In the light of the fire the Cybertronians were able to see it wave them in.

"Come on, come on. I see you. Get closer! I need to clear some of these things to get a good look…" it muttered. The Autobots cautiously stepped forward and the person shuffled some tapestries out of the way, giving them a nice view of its face.

It was a human girl, who apparently was their size. She had waist-length black hair, icy blue eyes, and couldn't have been older then nine. Smooth olive-colored skin accented shadows cast along her body due to the flicking light of the fire. She had a black robe on with what looked like an old tribal anklet hanging loosely on her ankle. Tiny black tattoos shaped like tears, or maybe stars, decorated the corners of her eyes. At the moment she looked over-worked and frazzled.

"Well don't just stand there, go and make yourselves comfortable. I hope if you don't mind me going through some of this while we talk. These past few millennia have swamped me with work. Damn, how many people _lived _on that planet? They just _had_ to go blow it up, now, didn't they?" the girl had turned back to the piles of tapestries and papers while she continued to grumble to herself. The Autobots regarded her uncertainly.

"Who are you?" Wheeljack finally asked. She glanced at him.

"Oh, you haven't figured it out yet? I shouldn't be surprised. Nearly no one realizes it at first," she shoved a few more papers to the side and bobbed slightly on the balls of her feet.

"I'll put it simply. I'm the Grim Reaper and you all have died," she said. She sifted through some papers again, waiting for the explosion.

"_**What??"**_

Ah, there it was.

"What kind of Decepticon trick is this?"

"That is impossible!"

"Primus damn it, give us some answers!"

The exclamations came in a flood. The Grim Reaper sighed and rolled her eyes, taking out a quill pen and writing something on one of the papers she was holding. She threw a glance at the robots and sighed.

"I'm not lying. Here, I'll show you," she murmured. Her eyes flashed and the fire went out, plunging the world into darkness.

Ratchet could see his Autobot friends below him. Not the ones with him as of late, but the ones the 'Grim Reaper' claimed he left behind. They were all building something, and it was with a sinking spark Ratchet realized that they were building a mausoleum.

'Bots came from the outside to bring in what was obviously coffins. They carried the coffins with gentle care, and everyone building stopped to watch them pass.

"The mourning service is being held now, if you want to say goodbye now's the time," Jazz's uncharacteristically serious voice came from one of the chambers. Everyone nodded and the coffins were brought to different chambers, some going in the same one, some going separate. Ratchet followed a specific coffin to its chamber, noticing that it had been painted the colors of his own armor.

He passed through the walls into the burial chamber, and noticed that another coffin was placed besides his own, and both had pictures of the one they belonged to on top. They were pictures of Wheeljack and himself.

He noticed the door open, and he turned to see who came in. His spark nearly broke at the expression on Swoop's face as he landed besides the coffins. The small dinobot was silent for a while.

"Me, Swoop, no know what to say to Ratchet and Wheeljack. Swoop come without other dinobots, because Swoop wants to say goodbye, and other dinobots not ready to say goodbye to Ratchet and Wheeljack yet." Swoop hesitantly rested a small hand on one of the coffins. "Me, Swoop, not sure if he is ready either. But Swoop want to know that he did say goodbye. Spike say that saying goodbye makes Swoop feel better, like Ratchet and Wheeljack are still here. Me, Swoop, wish Ratchet and Wheeljack still here."

Ratchet wanted to reach out to the small dinobot. He wanted to scream that, yes, he was here. He felt the presence of Wheeljack next to him and knew he was going through something similar.

Swoop rested his head against the cool stone of the coffin. "Swoop convince Perceptor to come. Swoop say that Perceptor is upset, like Swoop and other dinobots are. Twins are upset too. Everyone is upset. But Perceptor no cry or get angry yet. Spike say that that's no good for Perceptor. Swoop thinks that he is not ready to say goodbye yet, like other dinobots are. But Swoop convince Perceptor to come, because Swoop think that it would help him. He should come next. Swoop misses you, Ratchet and Wheeljack." Swoop hugged the stone coffins and flew out the door. He seemed lighter then when he went in.

The door opened again and Perceptor shuffled in, obviously being encouraged to do so by Swoop from the outside. The door swung closed, leaving the scientist alone with two corpses and two ghosts. He hesitated, and then walked behind the coffins, against the wall. He slid down until he was sitting, still not saying anything. Swoop was right; Perceptor was not ready to mourn.

Perceptor just sat there, looking at the coffins with empty optics. He didn't say anything, nor did he move to do so.

"Perceptor…" words escaped Ratchet despite himself. Perceptor perked up and looked around the room. Wait a second, that shouldn't happen, did he actually hear Ratchet…?

Ratchet felt Wheeljack's presence shuffle nervously next to him. If this was a hologram, it was very realistic. They both came to a silent agreement that, if there were any way this was real, then Primus dammit they would help their friend!

Ratchet and Wheeljack both drifted to Perceptor, feet never touching the ground. They kneeled on either side of him and, after a moment's hesitation, they pulled him into a group hug. If Wheeljack and Ratchet were visible, this would've been the kind of picture the twins would kill to have.

Perceptor just shuttered his optics and savored the feeling. Sure, he realized he was probably going completely and utterly insane but at the moment he didn't much care. He couldn't see either ghost, but he felt them. Of course he knew that they most likely weren't really there, that would be impossible, but it would be nice to lose himself in a grief-induced hallucination, just once.

The ghosts finally realized that this was real. They were really dead, and those coffins held their bodies. They both tightened their grip and Ratchet said the only thing he could think to say.

"Take care of yourself, old friend." With those words, the world around them faded away.

A/N

Hola my readers! How'd you like it? Okay, I hope to get the second chapter up soon. This was inspired by a few fics. (There You'll Be by Kittie1, Autobot Angels by Dragoness Eclectic, and a picture I saw on Deviantart called Prowl Takes On Wings by Scream01.) And my beta is Maieve Avvi, so a big round of applause for Avvi! -claps- Review please, guys!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, I'd bring the G1 back on television and make this happen there.


	2. A Fluke in the Universe

Ratchet found himself standing in the odd room with the Grim Reaper again. The rest of the ghostly Autobots were with him as well with identical expressions of regret and surprise painted on their faces. The Grim Reaper turned to a pile of tapestries. The silence hung in the air heavily.

"Now do you believe?" the Reaper asked. The Autobots avoided looking at anyone.

"Yes, we believe," Prowl said. He was making the most valiant effort of them all, (and that was saying something considering the mechs that were in the room,) to compose himself behind his mask of logic and calmness.

"Why'd ya show us that?" Ironhide muttered. He seemed angry at Death, but who could blame him?

"So is it all over? Swoop, Perceptor, the twins, First Aid… We just leave them?" Ratchet asked.

"I guess so," Wheeljack said gloomily, his optimism dissolving. Death raised an eyebrow while still fingering through the tapestries.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she said. The Autobots watched her confusedly as she pulled out some specific tapestries. "Look at this."

She carefully handed them the tapestries, one for each. Ratchet unfolded his abnormally long one, (he noticed all the tapestries were incredibly long,) and with no little surprise saw his own name woven in with great care. The tapestry was far from perfect, it was riddled with mistakes, holes, and incorrect knots but the overall design was beautiful. Although, in what seemed to be what should've been the middle of the tapestry the mystery weaver had abandoned it. Untied strings hung forlornly from the end, almost begging Ratchet to put it back on its loom and finish it. He noticed this little quirk with all the tapestries his friends were holding.

"What are these?" Windcharger asked. The Grim Reaper's gaze seemed somewhat distant for a moment.

"Those are your lives," she murmured.

"Come again?" Wheeljack raised an optic ridge.

"Your lives. They were woven; every stitch is a second you lived. Obviously, your lives were unfinished. Fate had decreed that you wouldn't die," she said, shuffling through some papers again.

"That doesn't make any sense," Prowl began, "how could fate decree when or where we die? And if it does, how can it be wrong?"

"Fate is what was to happen, but there was a fluke in the universe and you and all the others of that battle died because of it," Death said matter-of-factly.

Prowl furrowed his metallic brow. "But that is also impossible. Nothing can decree what will happen."

Death sighed. "I'm not getting into details or we'll be here for years. Anyway, because you were never supposed to die, you're going to be given another chance at life." Everyone noticed that Prowl's cranial circuits were starting to spark warningly.

"But that is also illogical! You can't bring a mech back to life!"

"Sure you can, the Quintessons brought back Optimus Prime, didn't they?"

"Gah!"

Prowl's head put on a small lightshow of sparks, and after a _zzzttt_ sound, he fell to the floor. Ratchet and Wheeljack knelt next to him, opened a small panel on his head, and checked the delicate wires inside.

"He should be fine, his circuits just scrambled," Wheeljack said.

"What're the 'Quintessons' and what was that abou' Optimus?" Ironhide asked.

The Grim Reaper sighed again. "Jesus, I didn't think you'd need all this explaining. I'll put it really simply. You weren't the only ones who died. Optimus Prime, Megatron, the insecticons, Thundercracker, Starscream, and Skywarp all died as well. The Chaos-bringer, Unicron, found the bodies of Megatron, Thundercracker, Skywarp, and the insecticons and reformatted them to create Galvatron, Scourge, Cyclonus, and the Sweeps. The group later went to Starscream's coronation as the Decepticon leader and incinerated him. Meanwhile, Optimus Prime passed the Matrix of Leadership to Ultra Magnus and died himself. Two moon bases were _eaten_ by Unicron and Hot Rod took the Matrix, became Rodimus Prime, destroyed Unicron, and got the survivors to Cybertron. Several years later the remaining Decepticons went and brought Galvatron back and the war started again. Several years after _that_ the Quintessons, i.e. the Cybertronians creators, brought Optimus back to life in an attempt to destroy the Autobots and take over Cybertron. After dying _yet again_, (Jesus Christ did that guy give me a headache!) he was brought back to life by another Quintesson when a hate plague started infecting earth and most of space. Optimus then used the Matrix to eradicate the hate plague and all has been quiet since. Did I miss anything?" Death said. There was a long silence.

"Wow, they've been… busy," Wheeljack muttered. Ratchet frowned.

"Wait a second, we just saw our own funerals. It couldn't have taken years to build the mausoleum, and the mourners acted like the loss was still raw," Ratchet said. Death rolled her eyes.

"Hello? Death? All-powerful being _right_ in front of you? It's not so hard to bring you to the past, you know!" she said, pointing to herself in exaggerated movements.

"But aren't you just death?" Wheeljack asked. Death let out a derisive sound.

"No, I'm not just death. I just thought it'd be simpler to introduce myself that way. I have millions upon millions of names. Death, God, the Fates, and Primus among them."

Blank looks and confusion abound.

"You guys are doing that a lot, aren't you?"

"But… that's impossible."

Primus rolled her eyes. "Nothing is impossible."

"But aint Primus a mech o' some kind?" Ironhide asked. Death shrugged.

"I can appear however I want. I find that I act feminine and I feel most comfortable in a human body. (That, and I love seeing the reactions of the mortals when they see me. What is it with these guys and assuming I'm a boy?) I am the god slash goddess of every culture, of every planet, of every anything, and none of the stories of me are _true. _I just came into being in the middle of an empty expanse of space. Planets and people created themselves, and I govern the laws of nature, creation, the future, the past, the present, and death. Not very complicated, now, is it?" she said, starting to write some more things into the random pieces of paper.

"This is so confusing! Why can't we just come back to life if you're so powerful?" Huffer asked, irritated.

Fate rolled her eyes yet again. "I'm swamped as it is. 'Sides, it's been a while since you've died. Do you really want to come back?" she asked seriously. The mechs exchanged glances.

"She has a point. Maybe it's best if we stay dead. We could just be ripping open some old wounds." Ratchet had a thoughtful yet slightly gloomy look on his face.

"But what about all of the people we left behind? We can't have them continue thinking we are gone and they'll never see us again!" Windcharger exclaimed. Wheeljack noticed the corner of Death's mouth turn into a slight frown before she caught herself and became expressionless again.

"There's more to it, isn't there?" he asked.

The Grim Reaper sighed resignedly. "Yes, there is. That fluke in the universe and fate has a domino effect. Since you are the only ones who know of it, you are the only ones to prevent its climax. Starscream had already woken up and set out to regain life a small while ago and he attempted making a deal with Unicron. He gave Unicron awareness again, and he's angry. Unicron plans to destroy Cybertron by sending his energy to Vector Sigma and causing it to implode. If Vector Sigma is destroyed, it's creations, the sparks of the Cybertronians, will be extinguished, and consequently…"

"Our friends will die," Ratchet finished, and Death nodded sullenly.

"Yes, your friends will die," she said.

Ironhide clapped his hands together. "Well that jus' about decides it, now doesn't it?"

Primus nodded. "Yes. Prowl is waking up now. Ratchet, Wheeljack, kindly explain the situation. And please don't let him faint again!" Just as she said it, Prowl's optics flickered on again. Wheeljack and Ratchet hurriedly gave him the condensed version of what had happened, (his logic circuits had given eight warning sparks by the time they were through,) and Death collected the tapestries again. She sorted through some more papers and tapestries and put them in something that could pass off as a semi neat pile.

"You must depend on the living to give you a body again. Each of you can contact only one mortal, as trying to contact anymore will force you to divide yourself. Sadly, they will not understand you if you try speaking to them, nor will they see you in the waking world," she said.

Prowl raised a metallic eyebrow. "Why wouldn't they understand us?" he asked. The Reaper shrugged.

"They're living. You're dead. The dead have a specific language you've been speaking this whole time, and the living cannot understand it unless they were an inch from joining them. You'll have to rely on giving dreams to your chosen mortal," she said.

Wheeljack and Ratchet exchanged meaningful glances.

"But that can't be right… in the past Perceptor was able to understand us fine," Ratchet said.

The Reaper raised an eyebrow again. "That's because he wanted to hear you. He wanted to hear you so desperately that he was able to understand. I can get into further detail but it gets complicated," she said.

"So what you're saying is that we have to go inside a friend and mess around with their dreams so that they see what'll happen in a bunch of images?" Huffer asked.

"Yes, basically. You will be able to figure out the finer points of this soon, but it may be a while until you can give them a clear-cut message," Death said.

Windcharger put his face in his hands. "This is too complicated."

"Well, how do we get to our friends? I doubt we'll just be able to waltz into their dreams and show them whatever the pit we want!" Brawn said, apparently deciding he had been quiet long enough.

Death drew a blue stick of chalk from her robe pocket while saying, "You're correct. It won't be easy to control their dreams, especially if they try to wake up or resist you. It'll get easier to control it over time. But there has to be an anchor here. By that I mean only six of you can go to the living and one of you must stay here until it is time to come back to life. If you don't have an anchor, you wont be able to come back here should something go wrong. You will be a ghost as Starscream is, haunting the mortals but unable to leave to the underworld. I guess you would call it the Matrix, though."

The Autobots exchanged glances. Blue optics looked to blue optics. Each one had loved ones they wanted to assure of their safety, but at the same time each of them had to think of the logically right path. Ironhide recognized this, and sighed.

"Ah'll stay here. Ah never was good with riddles and the like," he said.

Death nodded and wrote some runes on the wall with her chalk. "Then everyone going to the living step through the portal. You can decide who you'll join with among yourselves, and then you'll begin." The runes glowed and a warp appeared in the middle. Huffer grumbled something about how this was totally impossible but he was ignored. Everyone except Death and Ironhide walked inside and the runes disappeared. Ironhide and Primus sat in silence.

"I can rig up a viewer if you want to watch," she offered.

"It'd be appreciated."

"M'kay, let me just get some more runes up there…"

A/N

Okay, someone asked if there would be other moments between the dead Autobots and their loved ones. I wanted to say that, yes, there will be other moments but it will be a while until I will write them. Most of them will be towards the end, as I accidentally got this story to center mostly on Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Perceptor. (Totally by accident! I just don't know much about everyone else's character.) But, for all of you Prowl, Bluestreak, Jazz, minibot, and Ironhide fans I'm going to do my best to give them their moments. Again, a bunch of credit should go to my beta, Maieve Avvi. Huggles to Avvi! D Review please!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.


	3. The Nightmares Begin

Perceptor examined the germ sample a little more closely. He couldn't seem to get his lenses to adjust correctly. He sighed; lack of recharge was starting to take its toll.

He transformed into his bipedal mode and grabbed a mug of energon on the lab table next to him. He took a sip and glanced at the clock. Yep, it was past midnight. He silently promised to go into recharge after he properly examined the samples. He hoped to find a cure to a few human illnesses by the end of the year, and he needed to get the necessary data.

There was a light knock on the door. Perceptor looked towards it confusedly. Now who could that be at this hour?

"Come in," he called. The knock sounded again, slightly more insistent this time. Perceptor furrowed his metallic brow in puzzlement and walked to the door.

"The door was unlo-" he stopped when he saw no one on the other side. He looked to either side of the corridor. He heard retreating footsteps a little ways away. The footsteps paused, as though waiting for him to follow.

"Sideswipe? Sunstreaker? Is this an endeavor to make a fool of me?" he asked. There was no answer. He rolled his optics.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, this is the third time this seven-day-cycle. I'm not going to rise to the b-" he stopped talking when his door slid closed behind him, and a click told him it was locked.

"I must admit that you are getting clever about this venture if you were able to bar my way to safety. Did you rewire the control console?" he asked. Everything was silent in the hall. Perceptor frowned as he was beginning to get nervous in the eerie silence. Doubt began to nibble at his spark. Would the twins really be able to pull all this off? Would they even do it? He had no doubt in his mind that they would do it, but it wasn't like them to try the same trick so soon, and lacking as much embarrassment as they could stuff into it. The last two times it had involved bright turquoise paint falling on top of him the moment he stepped outside the door, and then a paint gun had done a painful polka-dot design. And then the twins had taken pictures. Lots of pictures.

"Whoever it is, please respond," he tried again, doing his very best too hide any of what was going on in his head. By now he was almost sure this wasn't the twins' doing. They never delayed gratification long enough for an overly-complex trap. The footsteps started retreating again. He looked around, and noticed there weren't any doors leading out of the corridor. It was just going straight, but it was too dark to see his phantom knocker. Perceptor strained his optics trying to catch a glimpse of the owner of the footsteps, but it was almost as if they were just a sound with nowhere that it originates from. He quickly ran a diagnostic on his audio receptors and they came up in perfect condition.

There was the sound of a door being opened and shut and the footsteps disappeared. Perceptor followed the corridor until he came to the end of it. Strangely, at the end there was the door to the med-bay, though there was an odd picture scratched into the surface of the door. It was an almost spherical shape, only it had more then a few facets, like a well-cut diamond. It looked familiar.

Perceptor filed that information for something to look over in the future, but for now he opened the door to the med-bay.

The inside of the med-bay was dark, as was everything else. There was moonlight leaking from the window and it fell to the middle of the floor. That wasn't right, there wasn't moonlight in Cybertron, but Perceptor didn't really care. The Cybertronian equivalent of his throat constricted and his energon ran cold. No, he didn't care about that at the moment because his eyes were glued to Ratchet's sparkless corpse right where the moonlight hit.

Perceptor woke up with a start and nearly falling off his recharge berth.

---

"Congratulations, Ratch. You scared the living daylights out of Perceptor." _There was a ghostly eye roll at the late engineer's words._

"With what we have to do he'd better get used to it. When is Prowl going to contact Jazz?"

"Tomorrow. We can only go one at a time at first."

"Why?"

"Well, for one we don't want to wake the whole of Metroplex up with six simultaneous screams, for two we need each other free for back up in case someone tries to resist, and for three…"

"Who would want to miss seeing our friends scared witless?" _A slight amused smile._

"Right."

"Who are you going to contact, 'Jack?"

"Grimlock. We need to have the Dinobots' strength behind us if we want to get to life and get Vector Sigma under control."

"And you want reassure them as fast as possible that we're okay."

"And you don't?"

"Touché. Well, I'm going to see if Perceptor's okay. We can hardly have him have a spark attack on the first nightmare."

"And you're worried about him."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

---

Jazz took another drink of energon. Glaring sunlight came down obnoxiously into the recreation room, and it hurt his optics. It was too early to deal with pain.

He noticed that there seemed to be an equally tired Perceptor sitting down on one of the Cybertronian-size couches. Perceptor looked, for a lack of a better word, awful. He seemed as though he were slightly traumatized by something. Jazz grabbed an extra mug of energon and walked towards the scientist.

"Had a bad night?" he asked, handing Perceptor some energon. Perceptor jumped slightly then looked up at him.

"J-Jazz, I didn't see you. Yes, I s-suffered from a slight disturbance in my recharge and I couldn't fall in-into slumber again afterwards," he said, accepting the energon. Jazz raised an optic ridge at the scientist's jumpy behavior and language.

"And that's why you're as nervous as a petro-rabbit? Did you have a bad dream?" he asked.

"Yes, I-I had a bad dream," Perceptor said, grimacing. His expression screamed _'understatement of the century!'_ "May I en-enquire as to why you are up at this early hour?" he asked, making an obvious effort of steadying his speech. Jazz grinned sheepishly.

"I sort of listened to music all night. I didn't realize how late it was 'till about fifteen minutes ago," he said. Perceptor raised an optic ridge but didn't say anything.

"You should go and try to get some recharge. I'm sure you're experiments can wait until you get enough sleep to keep your hands from shaking," Jazz joked. A slight smile teased Perceptor's lips, though it obviously was tainted by something Jazz couldn't see.

"I sh-shall attempt to, though I cannot promise recharge. I'll leave you to your music," he said and he disappeared out the door. Did the saboteur think that Perceptor would really try to recharge after the obvious shake-up he had? No. Did the saboteur think that it was really any of his business? No. Jazz took another swig of energon and walked to his own rooms. Inside was a desk with a boom box on it and a recharge berth. There were a couple posters on the walls but that was just decoration. The boom box was already playing 'We Will Rock You.'

Today was Jazz's day off, and he was going to enjoy it. He eased into the seat at his desk and leaned back, gently tapping to the music. When it ended, an odd song came up.

_You don't remember me, _

_But I, remember you._

Jazz glanced confusedly at the boom box. He didn't put that song on there. He switched to the next track.

_Help! _

_I need somebody's _

_Help! _

_Not just anybody's _

_Help! _

_You know I need someone _

_Help! _

Okay, now he _knew_ that he didn't put Beatles in there. Jazz switched to the next track, his confusion growing. Did Blaster leave a burned CD in here in the couple minutes he was out?

_(Wake me up)  
Wake me up inside!  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake me up inside!  
(Save me)  
Call my name and save me from the dark.  
(Wake me up)  
Bid my blood to run,  
(I can't wake up)  
Before we all come undone!  
(Save us)  
Save us from the nothing we'll become. _

Wait a second; some of those lyrics weren't even the right ones. What in the Pit?

Jazz tried turning the boom box off. He could swear the thing was laughing at him as it continued to play that same song. Great Primus, he owned a demon boom box.

_I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems,  
got to open my eyes to everything.  
Without a thought without a voice without a soul  
don't let me die here  
there must be something more  
bring me to life. _

Jazz tried unplugging it. Apparently he had inspired the wrath of the evil boom box. It started cranking up the volume as though just to spite him, but something seemed wrong about it. This wasn't friendly music. There was definitely something about it that seemed so much more sinister than the music he so loved. The music no longer seemed to come from the box; it came from all around him. It came from his berth, it came from the ceiling, and it came from the walls. It was with horror that Jazz figured that it was also coming from himself, and the music was just getting louder. He clutched his audio receptors to try to block out the song, and he saw what looked like sparks flying through the air. Not the electronic sparks, Cybertronian sparks. The ones that were their souls.

_(Bring me to life)  
I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside.  
(Bring me to life) _

The song just got louder if that was even possible anymore. The room was shaking to the music. Jazz screamed.

_Bring me to life _

_Bring me to life _

_Bring me to life_

Jazz's optics shot open. He picked his head up from his desk and looked wildly around, and looked at the boom box on his desk suspiciously while it finished the song 'Welcome to the Machine.'

---

"Wow, very creative with that one, Prowl."

_There was a small smirk. _"Thank you."

"Who knew there were so many songs that could help get Jazz's aft into gear?"

_A presence of Huffer bobbed into awareness._ "He's a musician; of course music is a language he can speak!"

_The medic mentally cocked his head. _"Speaking of languages, how are you going to get the minibots to listen?"

"Well, I don't know if you know this, Ratch, but the minibots often share dreams, so it won't come as a surprise for Beachcomber, Bumblebee, and Cliffjumper to be running around the same dream."

"You DO realize that Cliffjumper will be the first to resist the dreams, right?"

"Yeah, we are NOT looking forward to that…"

"Well, I'm going to watch Perceptor. Who knows, maybe he'll fall asleep again and I'll be able to send him a slightly clearer message."

_The engineer sighed._ "I feel so bad for Perceptor right now."

"Shut your vocal processor, 'Jack. It's not like you won't send nightmares as well."

"True."

A/N

None of the lyrics belong to me; they belong to Evanescence and the Beatles. I'm not sure who Transformers belong to, (probably Hasbro,) but I'm not that person/company. I'm sorry about not updating sooner, but my computer was five years old and it decided to die on me. I had to get a new computer and I still need to find all my files... Yeah, not that fun. Again, thanks to Maieve Avvi for betaing the chapter. Take a bow Avvi! Review please!


	4. All Messages are Recieved

Grimlock stood straight as Hot Rod lectured them on what the next training exercise would be. It didn't sound really hard; all he had to do was smash through several walls and deactivate a bomb. He could always deactivate the bomb by smashing it.

"Do you understand, Grimlock?" Hot Rod asked when he finished. Grimlock gave a dinosaur grin.

"Me, Grimlock, understand Hot Rod," Grimlock said. Hot Rod nodded.

"Okay Grimlock, let's see what you can do."

Hot Rod left through the door and Grimlock turned towards the wall in front of him. He punched the wall.

No dent. No mark. The wall didn't even look like it was hit.

Grimlock frowned slightly. He punched it again.

His fist might as well have been an insignificant leaf.

He started punching harder and harder, and still the wall stood solidly. It was mocking him. He could almost hear it laughing at him, taunting him with his inability to even faze it.

"Grimlock! Hurry up! The bomb is not a joke, it's going to go off!" Hot Rod called through the speaker. What? A live bomb? Why didn't they say this before?

Grimlock let out a guttural roar and started to savagely beat the wall. The room began to vibrate with the less-than-rhythmic beating. Still the wall stood without so much as a dent. Hot Rod started calling through the speakers to get to the bomb with more and more desperation. Why wasn't Hot Rod coming in and _helping_ him?

He heard a loud boom, and flames burst forth, destroying the wall he had worked so hard to break. The explosion rocked Metroplex on its hinges, and Grimlock heard cries of pain from the other dinobots in the other room.

Grimlock felt himself thrown to the opposite wall, smashing through it and a few other things. Flames licked the metal that created his body, and for a scary moment he couldn't make sense of anything he was thinking. The room was spinning, and only after a moment was he able to steady his vision. There wasn't much to steady, though. Everything he seemed to be able to see was smoke.

Was this it? Was he responsible for all of it? Grimlock roared again and struggled against the darkness that was eating away at his vision. He could feel in his spark the other dinobots falling. No, they couldn't be dead. They couldn't leave him like their creators had, and he couldn't let the darkness take him too because he feared that if he offlined his optics they would never turn on again…

Grimlock woke up with a roar and accidentally kicked the bed above him, which housed Swoop. Swoop squawked and fell to the ground, and the subsequent noise woke Slag, Snarl, and Sludge. There was confusion, which ended with all the dinobots on the floor and Grimlock hugging them like he'd never let go. This caused even more confusion but Grimlock refused to say why the sudden show of affection.

---

"Well that reaction was… interesting."

"Oh, do you think he'll be okay? I didn't mean to scare him so much…"

_The medic smiled sympathetically. _"Wheeljack, he is going to have nightmares. It's better that they be dreams then something that he can't wake up from."

"I guess so…"

"Cheer up! If everything goes fine you can apologize to him in person."

_Windcharger crossed his legs and propped his head in his hand. _"Ratchet's right, Wheeljack. None of us _really_ like scaring all of them (though their reactions can be funny), but it's the only way we can convince them to help us stop the destruction of Vector Sigma."

"I know, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"We understand, don't worry, we understand."

---

Why was he walking down this hall again? He knew what was on the other side of the door. He knew that Ratchet would still be dead on that floor. Yet he had the strangest feeling that, if he went fast enough, he could still save him.

He hesitated again at the door. The shape scratched into it never changed. He thought he heard voices, deep in the darkness out of his reach. An irrational fear came from hearing those voices that he couldn't understand, but he ignored it all and opened the door again.

Perceptor jerked awake from yet another nightmare. His pump beat was beating fast and tiny drops of coolant were on his armor. With a trembling hand he took a disk from the top of his desk and slid it into a port on his arm. He downloaded the contents to help prevent any shaky limbs or speech. When the download bar registered one hundred percent he slid the disk out of his arm and shuttered his optics.

He opened his optics again with a grimace. The latest image of Ratchet seemed to have been branded in his memory banks, and when he closed his optics the image just came back. Why is it he couldn't be desensitized to these dreams? It had been a long time since he had a dream about either of his old friends, and for them to come back with such gruesome vengeance was disturbing.

He shivered involuntarily and rubbed his optics. He had less then an hour's recharge in the last four days, definitely something to be worried about. He ran a hand down the side of his face and promised himself that if this continued he'd ask First Aid if he had a virus. That's right, it was probably just a nasty computer virus. Right.

He didn't even bother trying to concentrate on his work this time. He stood up from his desk and walked out into the corridor. Taking care to not fall asleep on his feet, wouldn't due to wake up shouting in the middle of a corridor before two in the morning.

He got to Metroplex's living room as though he were on autopilot. In the room he saw Jazz struggling to stay awake at the table and Grimlock sitting on the couch with a subdued sort of tired expression. Perceptor handed them both mugs of energon and he was greeted with murmured thanks. Perceptor sat in another couch, causing them all to form a triangle. No one talked, just sipped energon. That was, until three exclamations echoed from seemingly random bedrooms.

The three sleep-deprived mechs jumped in surprise. Perceptor did a quick voice scan and then sighed.

"Grimlock takes Bumblebee, Jazz Cliffjumper, and I Beachcomber?" he asked. Again, the answer was mumbled but all of them went off to the room's they were assigned to drag out the resident minibot.

Perceptor rubbed his optics again and tried to walk down the corridor as quietly as he could. He was less quiet then he normally would be, he blamed lack of sleep for that, but he was quiet enough to not wake up anyone else.

He typed in a code for Beachcomber's door and it slid open easily. Inside there was a confused and slightly disorientated Beachcomber. Perceptor was slightly surprised he wasn't traumatized, like all his other nightly companions were, but then again nothing could traumatize the geologist.

Said geologist looked up from his recharge berth. "Hey Percy. Did I wake you?" he asked in his usual laid-back voice. Perceptor shook his head.

"Don't call me Percy and no, I was up beforehand. Was your own awakening caused by nightmares?"

"How'd you guess?" Beachcomber smiled up at him. Perceptor motioned for Beachcomber to follow him and he did without protest. The geologist looked at the scientist up and down, frowning slightly.

"Percy you don't seem to have gotten a lot of, like, recharge. Are you okay?" he asked. Perceptor didn't bother protest the name again and he sighed.

"No, I've been suffering from nocturnal disturbances as well."

"You mean you've got nightmares too?"

"Yes."

The rest of the walk was in silence, probably because Beachcomber saw that Perceptor was too tired to keep up a conversation. The got to the living room fast, and Perceptor motioned for the other mech to sit on the couch. He did so and they both turned to the corridor at the slight sound of metal scraping against metal.

On cue, Jazz appeared in the hallway literally dragging Cliffjumper behind him. The minibot in question silently fumed while the saboteur grinned slightly.

Jazz pushed Cliffjumper next to Beachcomber, and Grimlock came into the room carrying a protesting Bumblebee. Beachcomber grinned a little at the sight and Grimlock dropped the spy next to Cliffjumper. Beachcomber grinned serenely at the crowd. Cliffjumper just glared.

"What was that all about?" he hissed.

"What was your nightmare about?" Jazz asked immediately. Bumblebee looked at them confusedly.

"How do you know about that?" he asked.

"Maybe it has something to do wit' the fact we also have been having nightmares," Jazz said. Cliffjumper let out the cybertronian equivalent of a snort.

"Ever heard of coincidence?"

"Does your dream have something to do with some sort of doom, dying, or being brought back from death?" Perceptor asked. The expressions on the minibots were answer enough. Bumblebee looked at his hands.

"I don't get it. I just remember that we were walking in a park on Earth, and there were sparklings playing together. Everything was normal, but then I think there was a solar eclipse, and then…" he frowned and his optics dimmed. "The sparklings dropped dead. No screams, no cries, no nothing. They just died."

Perceptor shook his head and leaned against the wall. "If history has anything to tell us, these nightmares won't end soon. I suggest we go to First Aid in the morning."

"It's just a couple of nightmares! We'll live!" Cliffjumper snapped, but the scientist didn't hear him. Jazz glanced at Perceptor. He seemed to be looking at something none of them could see. Jazz nudged him gently and Perceptor snapped out of his thoughtful daze.

"These aren't just a couple of nightmares, 'Jumper. We've all had them, and we can't take much more," Jazz said as though nothing had happened.

"How long has this been going on?" Bumblebee asked.

"It began four nights ago. I seem to have been the first to get them. How long for you three?" Perceptor asked.

"Just two nights ago," Cliffjumper mumbled, still convinced that it was nothing. Jazz sat in a chair and propped his head on his elbow.

"Me, Grimlock, tired. Grimlock want nightmares to stop!" Grimlock said. Jazz sighed.

"We all do, Grimlock. I say we see First Aid abou' it. The lack of sleep is goin' to effect our performance if we're not careful," Jazz said. Cliffjumper crossed his arms and assumed a stubborn position.

"It's nothing! They'll go away on their own!" he said. Jazz, Perceptor, and Grimlock gave him death glares. (Perceptor's was the worst. Who knew that the scientist got so cranky with sleep deprivation?) Cliffjumper shrank into his seat.

"You are going to the med bay with us, or so help me, I will deactivate you and carry you myself!" Perceptor snapped, sounding spookily like a certain deceased medic. Everyone looked fearfully at the normally pacifistic scientist.

"You're bluffing," Cliffjumper challenged, though he didn't sound very sure.

"Am I?" Perceptor asked dangerously. He narrowed his optics and leaned closer so that his face was an inch from the minibot's. Cliffjumper shrank further into the couch. He seemed to ultimately decide that going to the med bay would probably be easier than facing the scientist's unheard-of wrath.

"Well, that's decided then," Perceptor said. "If you excuse me, I will attempt to get some more recharge. With any luck the nightmares are done for tonight." He turned around and left the room, everyone staring as he left.

A/N

Okay, I don't think there's much for me to say here, except that I'm sorry for the delay in updates and I hope I'll be able to get the new chapters up sooner. (By the way, I'm worried I'm making some of the characters a little OOC here. Am I?) Review please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	5. Specters of Dreams and Shadows

First Aid glanced at the small group that had formed in the med bay confusedly.

"You're saying that you've all been having nightmares that seem connected in some way?" he asked for clarification. They all nodded as one. First Aid sighed.

"I haven't heard of anything like that. Each of you, sit on one of the recharge berths and connect a CPU probe, please? It could be a virus of the mind," he said. Cliffjumper grumbled but was silenced by glares all around. Beachcomber just shrugged and jumped onto one of the recharge berths. Grimlock required help from Perceptor to get it connected properly. First Aid turned to a computer and typed in an order.

"Okay guys, I'm activating the probe." There was a light buzzing sound to prove First Aid's words correct. Perceptor's optics flickered as the probe let out a small electrical current. A line of data went through his mind, searching for any anomalies and sending live feed to First Aid's computer. Said medic looked at the screen, and he would've frowned had he a mouth.

"That's weird," he murmured.

"What's weird?" Bumblebee asked apprehensively. First Aid turned the computer so his patients could see the screen. There were six windows, each showing a pulsing blue spark.

"All of you seem to have an extra spark inside of you. The sparks seem to have connected themselves to the left halves of your CPUs, enabling them to control your dream functions."

"Amazing. Our dreams are actually being created by sentient wayward personalities," Perceptor murmured.

"There's nothing amazing about it! Someone is controlling it, and I want them out of my head!" Cliffjumper snapped.

"Me, Grimlock, agree with Cliffjumper. Me want extra spark out!" Grimlock readily agreed. First Aid typed something into the computer.

"Alright, I'll try removing-" but he didn't finish his sentence. As one, the sparks on the screen sent out a pulse of energy. All six of the mechs in the recharge berths let out cries of pain and ripped the probes from their heads. Sparks danced along the wires for a moment and First Aid's computer began to smoke.

First Aid jumped away from the computer before it shorted out. Black smoke leaked from every crevice and made a small cloud on the ceiling. Everyone stared.

"I… think that this is a problem you have to combat psychologically," First Aid finally said.

"How do we do that?" Jazz asked.

"Through our dreams. Come, I have a plan," Perceptor said, waving for everyone except First Aid to follow him. They all slid off of the berths and followed him quickly, through the door and out of sight.

---

Perceptor kept his optics firmly on the door, a metallic finger tapping the ground he was sitting on. The knocking should come soon, but he could never be sure. Perhaps his nightmare had already left because it knew what was going to happen, or maybe…

Three sharp knocks came from the door. Perceptor didn't hesitate to stand up and open it. Again, he heard the retreating footsteps down the corridor. His instinct told him to follow, but he just stood outside the door and leaned against the wall, looking down the hall. The footsteps paused, waiting for Perceptor to follow. When he didn't, the phantom started to tap the floor impatiently. Perceptor just raised an optic ridge and squashed any notion that he could still save his friend.

"You wish for me to follow you yet again to an illusion?" he asked in that oddly accented voice of his. There was a pause in the tapping, and Perceptor assumed that was an affirmative. He slowly shook his head.

"No. I, and the other Autobots you seem to have infected, are through with this game. It just took us a small while to figure out how to end it," he murmured. There was a light tap, and Perceptor assumed it was a startled or panicked step back.

Perceptor advanced on the phantom of his nightmares, eyes narrowing and fists clenching slightly in a rare show of anger. "Indeed, you heard me correctly. Who are you then? One of Soundwave's cassetticons? Or perhaps Soundwave himself? Perhaps a new player?"

Perceptor felt the phantom fly into panic, and it sifted through his memory banks. Before the scientist had a chance to react, it ripped a file out of his mind and brought it back up.

_Perceptor tiredly stumbled out of the shuttle and on to the metallic ground of Cybertron. He felt as though he'd fall then and there but his legs miraculously held him up. He felt an arm wrap around his waist to hold him steady. Perceptor gave a grateful look to Ultra Magnus._

_"Thank you," he murmured quieter than he meant to. Magnus nodded._

_"We can't have you collapsing, now can we?" he asked. They both slowly made their way to Metroplex; Magnus was set on making Perceptor have rest. Perceptor was almost too tired to resist._

_They made good time, after all, no one was expected to fight or crowd the streets right after the whole fiasco with Unicron. Perceptor himself still didn't know what had happened, or where everyone from Autobot City was, or how on Cybertron Hot Rod, or Rodimus now, had gotten the Matrix of Leadership. So many questions, but so little answers. Perceptor just couldn't find the strength to ask for the answers, though. He was too tired. After he had recharge he would ask. Just after a good recharge._

_Perceptor must've fallen into recharge briefly on his feet, because when he came to, Magnus was leading him into Metroplex. Once he was in Metroplex it would only be a short walk to his quarters. He could survive that long._

_"Ultra Magnus! Perceptor!" a familiar voice called from the halls. They both turned to see Jazz running down the hall._

_"Yes, Jazz?" Ultra Magnus asked. Jazz looked stopped in front of him._

_"We found all the casualties of Autobot City," he said. Ultra Magnus frowned._

_"Let me bring Perceptor to his rooms and then we-"_

_"No, I can stay awake long enough to hear this. Proceed," Perceptor said, straightening and standing without Magnus's help. _

_"The entire crew of the shuttle that was hijacked was killed, and Huffer, Windcharger, and Wheeljack were destroyed in the battle," Jazz said, his voice unnaturally neutral. The air got caught in Perceptor's air vents. He felt all the energon drained from his face, and had he been human he would've resembled a ghost._

_"Ratchet was on that shuttle… They're dead? Both of them?" he asked, although he knew the answer. Jazz just nodded sullenly. Perceptor swayed dangerously on his feet. Both of the other mechs worriedly gripped his arms to keep him from falling._

_"It's quite all right, I'm fine. I just, have to be alone for a moment. I can make it to my own rooms," he murmured faintly. Ultra Magnus and Jazz nodded their understanding and walked down the corridor. Perceptor walked to his rooms more mechanically than usual. The taps that his feet made on the metallic floor seemed more distant than usual, as if they weren't really there. He was sure to lock the door behind him before he sat on his recharge berth._

_Perceptor rested his head in his arms, trying to digest what Jazz had told him only moments before. Ratchet and Wheeljack, his two dearest friends, were dead. _

_As absurd as it seemed, he felt as though he should've been able to do something. He should've run from Autobot City to see the shuttle and save anyone who was still alive, or look around the battle field to find the wounded. Maybe then he could've saved them. _

_He mentally shook his head. No. He couldn't have done that. After he saw some of the bodies the Decepticons left behind he saw that they had been practicing their aim. Each shot should've either been deadly the moment a given mech got it, or near impossible to repair without proper equipment. His friends were probably one of those cases._

_Despite all this, despite the numb feeling that had held his spark since he heard the news, Perceptor couldn't seem to cry. Somehow, inside himself, he knew that he might never find it in himself to cry._

Perceptor woke from the memory with a shuddering gasp. He realized dimly that he was on his hands and knees trying his best to breath normally.

"You… believed to make me weaken psychologically…? No, it is a memory. The past is done," Perceptor said. He felt the presence inside of his mind retreat, and he looked up to see his surroundings.

He was in the ruins of Autobot City, although, it looked more forlorn than he remembered. Perceptor confusedly stood up and brushed himself off. What was the phantom trying now?

"Perceptor? Is that you?" someone asked. Perceptor turned to see who it was and he saw Jazz stumbling out of one of the ruined buildings.

"Jazz? Were you able to confront your phantom as well?" Perceptor asked. Jazz smiled weakly and nodded.

"Yeah, I gave the thing a talking to. It has a nasty bite though, and next thing I know I'm here," Jazz said.

"I think we all were able to, like, try to make peace with the phantoms," Beachcomber said, climbing jumping off of a nearby ruined wall, and he was closely followed by Grimlock and the other two minibots.

"Did any of the apparitions accept your olive branch?" Perceptor asked. Bumblebee frowned.

"No. It wasn't so much of an olive branch as it was Cliffjumper trying to attack them, which was a little pointless seeing as our 'extra sparks' are basically shadows."

"Shadows?" Perceptor asked, frowning.

"Yeah, they are three shadows that follow us," Bumblebee said. Perceptor frowned. Were these apparitions able to shape shift? His own was an invisible yet undeniably solid mech, Jazz's was a boom box, and Grimlock's seemed to be a wall, but never had they a distinguishable live form.

Cliffjumper shifted his weight. "This doesn't sit right with me. They're here, I know it."

"Indeed. I believe we are all aware that they are here, and I believe it is time they stopped relying on riddles and shadows," Perceptor said, glancing around.

"You hear that? We know you're there! You can come out now!" Jazz shouted. His voice echoed eerily off the ruins. There was a long pause, in which the mechs shuffled into a circle facing outward.

Silence hung around the dead city heavily. A light wind picked up and blew a thin cloud of dust across the wasteland. Perceptor could have sworn he heard whispers carried in that breeze, but they were gone before he had a chance to listen.

Suddenly, there was movement, and shadows jumped from the buildings. There were only six, and each one of them stood in front of one of the mechs.

Perceptor narrowed his eyes. "So you finally face us," he stated. The shadows didn't move. "Come, I know that isn't your true forms. If you are sparks, you have, or at least had, a body. You can take form of it."

There was another pause, as though each of the phantoms were thinking about it, and then, color and depth seeped into each shadow.

Each mech took a large step back when they saw the forms the phantoms were taking. No… it couldn't be…

A/N

God, how I love writing cliffies. As usual, Maieve Avvi is my beta so kudos to Avvi! Review please! (Oh, and a very Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukah/Happy Kwanzaa to everyone, and have a happy New Year.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.


	6. Bonded to the Dead

The long-since deceased victims of Autobot City were there, around them. Perceptor felt the familiar numb grief at the sight of them. It had to be another illusion. There was no way this was real. No one seemed to be able to speak, and the dead mechs didn't make any effort to.

"You… no, that can't be your true forms… that is impossible…" Perceptor murmured, his voice barely steady. The apparition of Ratchet raised an optic ridge and 'Wheeljack' looked a little hurt.

"STOP MOCKING GRIMLOCK! YOU NO RATCHET AND WHEELJACK!" Grimlock made to lunge at the ghosts, but an unidentified force held him in place. He roared and struggled to get at what he believed were imposters. Perceptor, after spending so many years with them, was able to see hurt in their optic even if their facial expressions showed nothing.

"It's true, you aren't them. You're just trying to trick us again, aren't you?" Jazz growled in an uncharacteristically furious tone of voice. The ghost of Prowl simply looked at his friend with sad optics and slowly shook his head. The wraith-like minbots glanced at each other, almost as if to say, _'this isn't going well, is it?'_

"Well? You can't say anything? You don't have the courage to try to contradict us? You shame the brave mechs that fell that day," Cliffjumper said angrily. Apparently he had learned from Grimlock's continued demonstration and didn't try to tackle down any of the ghosts. The 'ghosts' of Huffer, Brawn, and Windcharger looked a little uncomfortable, though Brawn looked more offended than uncomfortable. Bumblebee and Beachcomber remained silent, unusually sullen expressions on their faces.

Perceptor locked optics with the mech in front of him, who happened to be Ratchet, and saw a flurry of emotions within. For a moment, the gruffness that Ratchet used to be so known for melted away and Perceptor just saw how the medic felt. He saw guilt, sadness, and… was he pleading with him? Pleading for him to understand, to listen, maybe? The mech that looked like Ratchet hesitantly placed a hand where his own spark lay. Perceptor was afraid he knew what the mech meant.

"They have to tell us something," Perceptor said. All the living mechs glanced at him.

"If they did why don't they now?" Cliffjumper asked.

"I… don't believe they can. I think they are unable to communicate through conventional means," Perceptor said. The mechs that looked like Windcharger and Wheeljack pointed to him and nodded excitedly, agreeing with him.

Jazz frowned. "Then how are they supposed to tell us something?" he asked.

Perceptor frowned deeply. "So far they have only been in our minds. They were only able to show us a combination of what we ourselves have seen and are able to comprehend. However, if they want to give a memory, they have to be permitted to go into our sparks," he said.

The living mechs stared at him for a long time.

"Come again?" Jazz asked.

"If we want them to be able to tell us outright what they need to, we must allow their sparks into ours, to allow them to become one briefly," Perceptor sighed.

"You're saying we should merge with nightmares," Jazz deadpanned.

"Yes, yes I am," Perceptor said.

Cliffjumper threw his hands up. "That's it! He's gone off the deep end!" he shouted. Brawn glared at him as if to say, _'what makes you think we like it anymore than you do?'_

Bumblebee cocked his head. "Actually, he has a point. What if these guys really are Brawn, Prowl, Huffer, Windcharger, Ratchet, and Wheeljack? And what if they do need to tell us something? After all, you notice how each of us were close to them while they were alive? And here you also have a built and well-balanced team: one of the best scientists we have, a special ops guy, the leader of the dinobots, Cliffjumper who's a regular warrior, a spy, and Beachcomber who is the most agile of Autobots and able to keep us all from panicking if something bad comes our way. I think they want us to do something as well," he said. This time it was Bumblebee that received the nods from the ghosts.

"But how do we know it's not a trick?" Jazz asked.

"We first send only one of us to 'test the water.' I volunteer," Perceptor said.

"But Percy, you seem to have forgotten you are letting at least one of these guys who gave us nightmares into your spark. Who knows what the fraggers could do in there?" Jazz asked fiercely. Some of said fraggers looked slightly affronted but they seemed to understand the reasoning behind the saboteur's statement.

"It's the only chance we have to see why they gave us nightmares." Perceptor didn't state his other reason to volunteer. If there was any chance at all that he was really seeing his long-lost friends… that was just it. He wanted to cling to the hope that they really were there.

"Just… Make sure you don't lose sight of the difference between dreams and reality," Jazz said, frowning deeply. Beachcomber and the rest of the minibots said nothing, just watching through worried, and in some cases narrowed, optics.

"I'll be fine," Perceptor said reassuringly, closing his optics. He felt the two of the ghosts disappear and he allowed them to pull him deeper and deeper within himself, bringing him into darkness.

He was one, all by himself. But then there were two more. They all were individual, he was he, and they were two. He couldn't see them, but they were there. There was something dampening their presence, a cold black curtain that wasn't really a curtain. They were on one side and he the other.

The curtain disappeared, and they were all there. The two presences blended together almost seamlessly, yet Perceptor knew they were very different. One radiated crankiness while the other optimism. They had little in common.

Both of them were by him, hesitating spirits. They were as bubbles, clinging to the world around them yet one touch could send them back into oblivion. The bubbles were closer to him, and for a moment there was neither life nor death. There was no world, and there was no war. There was only the other two, and the sparks that made the trio.

_"Are you sure about this?"_

There was hesitation. Rare indecision was prevailing over the scientific spark. The other sparks were so close, any closer and they would've done what they came here to do. He wondered if these were the sparks he hoped for them to be, or maybe imposters. He reached, feeling the energy around them.

There was love. There was friendship. There was trust. There were all these things, and they both felt it towards each other. Not only that, but they felt it for him too.

_"Yes, I'm sure." _

And it was done.

A/N

Before you ask, no, this isn't going to turn into a slash fic. There's probably going to be OC pairings, but no slash. Thank you, Maieve Avvi, for betaing for me once again. Review, please!

Disclaimer: I own the storyline but that's it.


	7. Two Roads

The mechs had created a ring around the offline Perceptor. Cliffjumper and Grimlock threw regular glares at the ghosts around them, (the ghosts of Wheeljack and Ratchet had disappeared.)

Jazz would've been doing the same, though he was preoccupied with the scientist on the ground.

"What do his vitals say?" Beachcomber asked seriously, accent toned down slightly.

Jazz moved to check, but just then Perceptor gave a strangled gasp like someone would if they just fell into sub-zero water. His optics flickered on and he started coughing. Jazz gripped his shoulder and brought him to a sitting position to help him breath better.

"Are you okay? If the slaggers did anything I swear I'll--"

"No, it's quite all right. I'm fine, they did nothing to hurt me," Perceptor managed between coughs. The group waited patiently for the coughs to subside.

"What happened, Percy?" Beachcomber asked.

"We bonded and… they showed me something. It is hard to explain without images, but I assure you, they are who they say they are," Perceptor said. There was a long silence.

"Did I hear you right?" Jazz asked.

"Yes, they are who they say they are," Perceptor repeated himself patiently.

Jazz glanced behind him to see the ghost of Prowl watching him expressionlessly. "So you're telling me that Prowl's really there?" he asked.

"Need I say it again?" Perceptor asked.

"Dear Primus," Jazz muttered.

"Actually Primus is partially responsible they're here in the first place, at least, she led them here," Perceptor said. Everyone gave him a weird look.

"They've met Primus? And did you say 'she?'" Bumblebee asked.

"I believe their memories can speak better than I can," Perceptor said sincerely.

Jazz regarded the ghost of Prowl for a long time. "Well, I don't know if Perceptor is defective or he's right, but assuming he hasn't gone insane, it's good to have you back Prowler," he said, winking. Prowl smiled and he disappeared, and Jazz's optics went offline just as Perceptor's had done mere moments before. All the mechs followed suit, (some more reluctant than others,) and the specters disappeared.

Perceptor crossed his legs and sat down properly. He felt more than he heard the ghost of Ratchet sit next to him. Perceptor looked to see where his friend was sitting only to see that he couldn't be seen.

"Are you there?" he asked for clarification. He felt a light touch on his shoulder. He took that as a yes.

"I have a question I've been meaning to ask you. During your funeral… was that really you and Wheeljack I heard and felt?" Perceptor asked, almost embarrassed to bring it up. He felt a sort of bittersweet feeling well up in Ratchet's spark. There was another affirmative touch on the shoulder. There was something special about this moment, somehow. For once Ratchet wasn't gruffly telling him to knock off the emotional slag, he was actually being gentle for once. A ghost of a smile flickered across Perceptor's face.

"That is good. After that particular incident I was worried my CPU was deteriorating under the pressure," he said. There was a sound of what he assumed to be a chuckle from next to him. It was then that everything around him began to fade.

"What… Am I coming out of recharge?" Perceptor asked. There was another touch to his shoulder, though it was harder to feel this time.

"I don't want to leave yet," he murmured, and immediately he wanted to slap himself for childishness. Nevertheless, he again felt this melancholy feeling come from Ratchet as he bade a silent good bye. They would be back, he seemed to say.

Perceptor came out of recharge feeling well rested for once. He glanced at the other mechs sleeping in the other recharge berths around the room. They should be waking up soon as well. Perceptor crossed his legs and placed his chin on clasped hands. What he had seen in the memory his friends went through so much trouble to give was of the utmost importance, though he was not sure how to go about saving Vector Sigma. It would be hard to convince Optimus Prime to help them in their endeavor, especially if they mention the fact that a few ghosts were the ones to give them information. He would probably ask them to get a psychiatric exam.

Perceptor offlined his optics to focus better. Could they enlist Hot Rod? No… He would probably have the same reaction. Ultra Magnus? Same. Perhaps he could just convince them that they should check on Vector Sigma, even if it may call for falsifying information? Perhaps, if he couldn't think of anything better.

He heard a very quiet moan from the recharge berth next to him. Perceptor quickly turned his optics back on to see Jazz waking up.

"Ow, Primus, Prowl… He really was there…" Jazz murmured.

"I presume that, due to your words, I'm not the only one who dreamed of lost friends," Perceptor said with a sad smile. Jazz's optics went online and he glanced up at the scientist.

"Yeah, oh man… Primus wasn't what I expected but… Great Primus, we have to do something," Jazz said.

Perceptor nodded. "Indeed." He looked at the optics that began flickering around the room.

"Everyone else should wake up now. I believe I should try to convince Optimus to allow us to go to Vector Sigma. It will involve a small amount of deceit on my part but it can't be avoided," Perceptor said. Jazz nodded and Perceptor stood up. He glanced at Jazz once and walked out the door. 

---

"You need to what?" Optimus asked.

"I need to take a team down to Vector Sigma to examine it. One of my scans caught slight irregularities in its readings, and it also seemed to have picked up a foreign energy signature," Perceptor repeated.

"And you want to bring Beachcomber, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Jazz, Grimlock and possibly the rest of the Dinobots?" Optimus asked.

"Yes, yes I do," Perceptor said.

"Why these particular mechs?" Prime asked, clasping his fingers together.

"I have my reasons," he said.

Optimus cocked his head. "Perceptor, we can't _spare_ any of those mechs, yourself included. You know more than anyone that there has been some odd Decepticon activity of late. We have to be ready for an attack. There were even some domestic attacks, and we aren't sure when it will become full-scale," he said.

Perceptor frowned. "But Optimus-"

"That's enough Perceptor. I'll see if I can send a team to check it out, but for now we'll just have to settle for the waiting game," Optimus said not unkindly, but in a tone that left no room for argument.

Perceptor was still frowning but didn't show his disappointment. "Yes sir," he said and walked out the door. 

---

"He won't give us clearance?" Jazz exclaimed.

Perceptor nodded sullenly. "He says he cannot spare any of us. We are as of now officially not allowed to go to Vector Sigma," he said.

Beachcomber sat cross-legged on the floor with a serene expression on his face. "Who said anything about having to be official? We could just slip under the radar."

"We can't do that. After the battle with Unicron, Rodimus Prime had started rebuilding the chamber leading to Vector Sigma. It has become a giant shifting puzzle, always moving so that it is impossible to figure out. Since Vector Sigma is sentient, it can control which way the puzzle turns. We would have to convince Vector Sigma to allow us through, and even if we do manage to do that fast enough, it may take a while to purge the energy from Vector Sigma and bring our friends to life. The time it shall take is one uncalculated variable," Perceptor said.

"Well, this entire adventure has become one uncalculated variable. I bet when you had your first nightmare you didn't think it would snowball into _this_," Bumblebee said, gesturing around.

"Eh, if Prime catches us at Vector Sigma, we can just tell him what's going on. Hopefully, by then our little ghosts will be alive and solid enough to back our story up," Cliffjumper said.

Grimlock shuffled restlessly. "Me, Grimlock, don't see why he has to listen to Autobot. Grimlock want to get Ratchet and Wheeljack back, and he wants to do it now!" he said.

Perceptor smiled sympathetically at the Dinobot. "We all understand, Grimlock. I'm sure we all want nothing more than to have our friends with us now, but if we try to run out of the base just to be apprehended and locked in the brig we won't be much help to them. The more we plan, the more likely our success," Perceptor said.

Grimlock crossed his small arms. "Me, Grimlock, know, but me no have to like it!" he said. Jazz sighed.

"Do we even know what we're supposed to do once we're there?" he asked.

"I believe that our 'extra sparks' will know. As for now, we should focus on how we get there," Perceptor said.

"Ah, speakin' as a special ops agent, I have a plan," Jazz said, and everyone leaned in to listen. 

---

Perceptor glanced around at the mechs, doing a quick head count. They were in the living room, and the only light came from Cybertronian-style street lamps outside and their optics. When he saw that everyone was accounted for, he nodded. 

"I've fed Red Alert's cameras a loop to show a static scene of quiet along the halls, but he does routine checks for such loops every ten minutes. We must be quick because when he sees the loop, he will alert Optimus of what has happened and this will lead to them finding out of our absence prematurely. Hopefully we will already be out of Metroplex by then," Perceptor said. Everyone nodded and started walking down the hall towards the entrance of Metroplex. Perceptor was a little surprised to see that Grimlock hadn't brought the rest of the dinobots, but he supposed that even Grimlock had realized how crazy the whole situation would seem.

They all, even Grimlock and Cliffjumper, slid down the halls like the shadows their friends had once taken form of. They fluidly slid out of the front door, just as the alarm went off.

"ALERT! ALERT! WE HAVE A BREACH!" Red Alert shouted over the intercom.

"Slag," breathed more than one mech. They all scrambled for cover as every light that existed on Metroplex went on and the exclamations from woken-up mechs sounded through the halls.

There was a marching sound, and Perceptor glanced at Jazz. "Some must be coming to the entrances to avoid any escapes from their unseen infiltrator. We must find a way out of sight, as we do not have enough time to get far enough outside Metroplex's grounds so we don't raise suspicion," he said.

"Ah have an idea," Jazz grinned. He somersaulted from their hiding place a disappeared.

"Where he go?" Grimlock asked.

Perceptor smiled slightly. "He went inside a tunnel underground. There's a small hole there that is used for maintenance," he said, and he somersaulted just as Jazz had and disappeared as well.

"Gotta go follow them. This is turning into a real ride, isn't it?" Beachcomber winked from under his visor and somersaulted away as well.

"Come on, Grimlock, Cliffjumper. We don't want to get caught!" Bumblebee said. He and Cliffjumper ran into the hole, and Grimlock sort of lumbered into it.

Dim, artificial lights lit up the underground tunnel. It made the images of the mechs waver as though they were under water. Perceptor looked around for a moment then pointed down one hallway.

"Vector Sigma's maze should be down there!" he said. There was pounding above them, causing some errant flecks of _something_ fall from the ceiling.

"Sounds like we should move," Bumblebee commented. They all complied enthusiastically. 

---

"Grimlock you big lug! Stop stepping so loudly!"

"Me, Grimlock, trying. Me can't get feet quiet."

"Oh shut up, both of you!"

Obviously, mechs started to get irritated with walking down a seemingly never-ending corridor for what felt like hours.

"Hey, Percy, are you sure this is where Vector Sigma's maze should be? Everything looks the same," Jazz sighed.

Perceptor glanced around with a calculating expression on his face. "I believe that we are already inside the maze, and this is merely the first trial." Everyone looked at him curiously.

"This doesn't look much like a maze," Bumblebee commented.

"That would be the point. Vector Sigma is clever, and it knows-" Perceptor stopped talking when the lights went out suddenly.

"Percy? What'd just happen?"

"Ouch, my foot!"

"Ow, whoever keeps smashing me against a wall, please stop!"

"Could someone, like, turn the lights back on?"

"Gah!"

"What the slag?"

"Me, Grimlock, want Autobot to get off of him."

"No one's on you, Grimlock."

"Hey wait a moment, where'd… oh Primus!"

The light appeared again, and the Autobots found themselves in a forest. The trees drooped forlornly towards the ground, and the leaves were turning into the fall colors of red and brown, though the most prominent color was yellow. It seemed that, where they were, it was nearing winter early as there was a gloss of frost settled on the leaves and ground. They were on a dirt path at a fork; one path on the fork looked beaten by generations of feet while the other path barely qualified as a path anymore.

"Where are we?" Jazz asked.

"It seems that Vector Sigma's maze was just beginning. It's a riddle we must decipher," Perceptor said.

Cliffjumper crossed his arms and raised an optic ridge. "How the pit is this a riddle? There aren't words," he said.

Beachcomber smiled a little. "You've got to, like, soak in your surroundings. The riddle's around us," he said, gesturing at the forest widely.

"Well, Beachcomber, Percy, I think this is your department," Jazz said. Perceptor rolled his optics and transformed into a microscope to see a fallen leaf a little better.

Grimlock started stomping his feet. "Me, Grimlock, want to go now! Autobots can split up!" he said loudly.

"Hey man, we can't, like, split up. Who knows how long these paths go?" Beachcomber asked in an effort to sooth the Dinobot.

"Indeed, Grimlock. Please pacify yourself. You're dislodging some of the frost and the formation of it may be-" but he stopped.

"Wait a moment... frost... Frost... FROST!" Perceptor went into his bipedal mode with a snap and he had a look in his optics that said he figured something out.

"Percy? Are you okay...?" Jazz asked worriedly.

"Beachcomber! The poet, Robert Frost!" Perceptor said, completely ignoring the saboteur. The geologist perked up.

"'The Road Not Taken'!"

"_Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,_

_And sorry I could not travel both_

_And be one traveler, long I stood_

_And looked down one as far as I could_

_To where it bent in the undergrowth..._ Yes, that's it!"

Perceptor was excited now. Both his and Beachcomber's optics were flashing brightly. All the other mechs were at a loss.

"What on Cybertron do you guys mean?" Bumblebee asked.

"Robert Frost was a famous human poet. One of his poems was called 'The Road Not Taken,' and it describes our situation perfectly," Perceptor said, calming down a little.

"_Then took the other, as just fair,_

_And having perhaps the better claim,_

_Because it was grassy and wanted wear;_

_Though as for that the passing there_

_Had worn them really about the same,_" Beachcomber recited confidently.

"_And both the morning equally lay_

_In leaves no step had trodden black._

_Oh, I kept the first for another day!_

_Yet knowing how way leads to way,_

_I doubted if I should ever come back,_" Perceptor recited the next verse.

"_I shall be telling this with a sigh_

_Somewhere ages and ages hence:_

_Two roads diverged in a wood and I-_

_I took the one less traveled by,_

_And that has made all the difference,_" Perceptor and Beachcomber both said the last verse together.

The rest of the Autobots stared at the scientists for a long moment. Jazz just burst into hysterics.

"What do you find so amusing?" Perceptor asked confusedly.

"Honestly, Beachcomber I'd expect but you? Sorry to say, Perce, but you never struck me as the artsy type," Jazz said in between laughs.

"Just because I am a scientist does not mean I can't appreciate well-placed words, phrases, and metaphors," Perceptor said, slightly miffed.

"Are we going to just talk about poems all day or get moving?" Cliffjumper asked, already going down the 'less traveled by' path. Everyone followed him, Jazz still chuckling.

"This has turned really complicated, really fast," Bumblebee murmured.

"You, like, just figured this out?" Beachcomber asked.

"You have a point there," Bumblebee said, and the two minibots quickened their pace to keep up with the taller bots.

A/N

Sorry about taking so long, I tried, I really did. As per usual, lotsa credit goes to Maieve for betaing and I want reviews. (Click the purple button. You know that you want toooooooo...)

Disclaimer: I don't own them!


	8. And We All Fall Down

"Where are we?" Jazz asked. The walls around them were made of smooth black stone. The small cave entrance they had gone through had slid shut, and red colored runes started glowing on the walls.

"Fascinating. I believe that I saw these runes before on a piece of Unicron that was taken from what remained of his body. This must be a part of Vector Sigma that has been affected by his influence," Perceptor said. The runes flickered and some sort of pedestal rose in the center of the room.

Black and red runes crawled up the pedestal and something at the top began glowing red and black. It was a little ball of demonic darkness.

"Me, Grimlock, smash?" the Dinobot asked.

"Not now, Grimlock. It is possible it is more unstable than it looks. Give me a moment." Perceptor knelt next to the pedestal and examined the sphere. He frowned and transformed into a microscope.

"I believe that this is a gateway of sorts to Unicron's consciousness. It is focused of his own spark and CPU energies." He examined it a little closer while being careful to not touch it.

"Why's it here?" Beachcomber asked.

"I suppose it's what we need to move forward in this game," Perceptor said.

"I say we smash it. Maybe we can damage Unicron!" Cliffjumper started towards it, but Perceptor quickly returned to his bipedal form and held out his hands to stop the minibot.

"It's too dangerous! We may accidentally release Unicron's power and destroy Vector Sigma!" he said. Cliffjumper growled in frustration but didn't make any more attempts at the orb.

"What do we do then?" Jazz asked, leaning casually against the wall.

"I believe… we must pass into Unicron's mind if we want to go farther."

Raised optic ridges all around.

"Running around a planet-eater's mind. Ah'm game!" Jazz let a grin appear on his face.

"How do we, like, manage that?" Beachcomber asked with a small smile on his face.

Perceptor allowed himself a small chuckle at his comrades' willingness. "To guarantee the fact that we'll stay together, we all should hold hands around the portal and then one of us touches it to go through."

Cliffjumper looked a little reluctant but he offered no resistance when Bumblebee and Beachcomber each took one of his hands. Grimlock had the same reaction when the aforementioned Geologist took his hand and the saboteur the other. Jazz took Perceptor's hand and everyone waited for the scientist.

Perceptor frowned and approached the orb carefully. It let out a few red sparks warningly, but he ignored them. He slid a hand into it and everything went red.

---

Blackness swirled around them as thick as water. But where were the others? He couldn't feel Jazz's hand anymore. Fear kicked into overdrive as he searched his spark desperately for the reassuring presence of his friends, but they weren't there. Where had everyone gone?

A watery image appeared in the darkness. A cloaked human girl frowning at a roll of parchment. There wasn't much light, but the small candle floating next to her cast an eerie perspective on her olive-colored skin. This was Primus.

_"Oh no, things aren't going as planned. How did he know?" _God tutted to herself. She placed the giant roll of parchment on a table and unrolled it a little farther. Spidery handwriting decorated the yellowed pages with an odd preciseness, but it didn't look innocent. The black ink shined in the dim light like blood, and Fate did not seem to like what she was reading.

_"Definitely not according to plan. He must have known. He must have." _She suddenly looked up from the parchment.

_"That God-damned thorn in my side is becoming a real nuisance. Well, this adventure may turn out more tragic than I had hoped for. No matter, it is of little consequence. All twists and turns lead to the same end."_ Her eyes suddenly narrowed and she looked around suspiciously.

_"Someone is here,"_ she muttered, rolling the parchment up. Her eyes went up and locked with her viewer's.

_"Perceptor. Should've realized that you would be more in tune with this, especially now and here. Get out. GET OUT!"_

Pain flew into ever neuro-circuit in his being. The image disappeared and the darkness enveloped him. He couldn't breath. He was drowning. Liquid darkness was flooding his air recyclers and his filters. He couldn't see any light. There was no light to breathe in to expel the darkness. He was sinking, further and further into oblivion. It was cold. Oh so cold. The darkness around him was freezing slowly, but kept going into every seam of his armor to the sensitive wires and circuits underneath. Primus, it hurt. He could feel himself fading away, and yet his vision was absent of the static that normally came with extreme damage. Oh Primus, the darkness was freezing and slowly expanding inside of him and around his circuits. He was going to either die of the cold, drown from lack of air, or implode. No one was there.

"PERCEPTOR!"

He shot into a sitting position and burst into a violent coughing fit. He could breath. He wasn't freezing in an ocean of darkness. The two familiar presences were still in his spark. A warm hand was on his back to keep him from falling to the ground again. He was alive.

"Are you okay?" Beachcomber's voice asked. Perceptor onlined his optics to see everyone formed a ring around him. Beachcomber had his hand on the small of his back to keep him steady, and Jazz was on the other side of him with a frown.

"We went through the portal and you were out like a light. Your vitals went nuts, you weren't breathing and your pump rate was going down… What happened?" the saboteur asked.

"I'm… I'm not quite sure. I perceived that I… nothing. Perhaps Unicron is trying to lead us astray with illusions…?" Perceptor said.

"Whatever it was, we're glad you're okay. Can you stand?" Bumblebee asked.

Perceptor stood with minimal help from the Autobots around him. "I hope I don't produce a routine of offlining at erroneous times," he said, slight nervousness edged in his voice. Jazz chuckled good-naturedly and patted the scientist's shoulder.

"Me, Grimlock say, let's go!" Grimlock said impatiently.

"I agree with him," Cliffjumper said, shifting his wait from foot to foot with pent up energy.

"Wait a moment…" Perceptor waved the trigger-happy mechs' requests aside. He approached the wall with a hand at his chin. His feet tapped against the stone floor ominously, and light that seemed to come from no where reflected off the glassy obsidian walls for a spooky effect.

The light on the obsidian glimmered and twisted like a live animal. The light refracted once, and then an image appeared in the black stone.

Optimus Prime, Kup, and Blurr were together in one of the most complex labyrinths any of the observing mechs had ever seen. They were glancing around themselves in confusion.

"What just happened?" Kup asked.

"Yeah-what-did-happen-and-where-is-Blue-and-the-twins-this-is-too-creepy-do-you-like-this-I-don't-like-this!" Blurr said pacing around in a small circle.

"Vector Sigma must be rearranging the structure of this place to keep us from getting our comrades, though I cannot imagine why," Optimus said.

"Why-are-these-walls-red-shouldn't-they-be-yellow-or-orange-like-they-were-the-last-time-you-all-were-down-here-this-does-not-look-good-does-this-look-good-to-you-not-to-me-I-don't-think-so!"

"He's right, it is odd. Didn't Percy mention a foreign energy signature?" Kup asked.

"You're right, he did. This is troubling."

"Well, so's gett'n stuck around Vector Sigma!" Kup said.

"Indeed. I'll call for back up," Optimus said, reaching for his comm.

The image shifted in on itself and now Bluestreak was in a different part of the maze.

"Sunstreaker? Sideswipe? Blurr? Kup?! C'mon guys, this isn't funny!" He started down the corridors. "We have to find Jazz, Bumblebee, Perceptor, Cliffjumper, Beachcomber and Grimlock and leaving me here won't help though I wonder why they would leave against orders, well, I guess Grimlock would leave against orders but not the others unless it was something really important which makes me think it is really important and we're talking going to Vector Sigma here and could someone please get me?"

The image shifted once again to show the twins in another area of the maze.

They were silent for a while.

"What just happened?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Everything went dark and everyone disappeared?" Sideswipe offered.

"It was a rhetorical question, 'Sides. Let's just find everyone and get this mission over with before all the dust down here ruins my finish." Sideswipe hummed as he followed his irate twin down the twisting paths.

The image shifted yet again to show Cyclonus, Scourge, Galvatron, and Soudwave trekking through the maze.

"Where are we? And where is Unicron, Soundwave?" Galvatron growled at the communications officer.

"Location: unknown. Location of Unicron: near," Soundwave said in monotone.

"Wouldn't it be logical for you to send your casseticons out to cover more ground?" Scourge asked.

"Probability of successful retrieval in maze: eight percent," Soundwave said.

"We'd better find Unicron soon, or so help me Soundwave, I will mount your head above my throne!" Galvatron shrieked in a fit of madness.

"Understood," Soundwave said, unfazed.

The image refracted once, and then it disappeared, leaving the obsidian glimmering black and white again. There was a long pause.

"Well, so much for slipping under the radar," Jazz said sardonically.

"It complicates matters that the Decepticons are here, though I should have expected it," Perceptor mused.

"Right, Soundwave's a telepath. He would've sensed Unicron's presence a mile away," Bumblebee said.

"And Galvatron never figured out how to keep his nose out of other people's business, so of course he'd come at the wrong time," Cliffjumper growled to himself.

"Me, Grimlock, no care about Decepticons. Me want to bring Ratchet and Wheeljack back!" the Dinobot said impatiently.

"I agree with the Dino-dude. The sooner we do this the better," Beachcomber said with his usual laid-back smile.

"Indeed. Let us continue in this venture," Perceptor said, waving them towards the only corridor available to them.

Darkness overshadowed each step of theirs. It got to the point where the only source of light was their optics, and that wasn't a lot of light. It was a good thing that each of them was equipped with night vision.

Jazz ran a finger along a smooth metal wall. It didn't feel cold, but not hot either. He felt an overwhelming despair growing in his spark. The heaviness weighed him down, making it harder to move. The last time he had this feeling was just before Unicron had attacked the moonbase he and Cliffjumper had been on. He learned then to not ignore it.

"Am I the only one wit' the feeling o' impending doom?" Jazz commented lightly.

"No," came the unanimous answer.

"Are any of ya worried?"

"Yes."

"Should we do something about this?"

Perceptor examined what looked like designs carved into the wall while still walking with the group. "It may be an effect of Unicron. I'm surprised we have gone this far without incident; this is his consciousness, and he should have detected us already."

"So you think it's just a lot of bad air from Unicron's head?"

"I suppose you could put it that way. We are coming to our destination."

Indeed, the corridor opened into a large round room. It was cavernous, and glowing red runes decorated the black walls from top to bottom. At the center of the room was a spherical floating object, only it had many cut facets. It was the shape Perceptor remembered seeing scratched into the med bay doors in his dreams.

There was something wrong, though. It was shaped like Vector Sigma, but no one could detect the familiar feeling of belonging that they always felt in the super-computer's presence. Perceptor took a cautious step forward, but Cliffjumper and Grimlock walked right to it.

"Guys! We have to make sure it's Vector Sigma first!" Bumblebee exclaimed, following them.

"What are you so worried about? Here's Vector Sigma, now we can get Brawn, Huffer, and Windcharger back! Let's hurry it up!" Cliffjumper said. He turned and reached out a hand to touch the computer…

"Cliffjumper, don't!" Perceptor and Jazz both ran forward and gripped the minibot's wrist while Beachcomber followed them with a worried frown.

That was when all Pit broke loose.

The floor cracked under them and black vines shot out, wrapping their hands to their bodies and effectively nailing them to the ground. The runes glowed violently to the point where it hurt to look at them directly.

_"Children of Primus…"_ a deep and familiar voice echoed through the room.

"Unicron!" all the mechs exclaimed together.

_"Unicron knows why you have come and he can not allow you to leave with your knowledge."_ Red electricity shot through the vines and sparked in the Autobots' systems. Making a few of them cry out and all of their optics offlining for a moment while they reboot their systems.

_"A taste of what is to come. You have meddled in divine affairs, affairs that Unicron can not allow you to know of and go unpunished."_

"Hey, we don't want any trouble. We just want our friends back and for you to leave our race alone. That's not much to ask, is it?" Jazz asked.

_"You and your own have disrespected Unicron, and that can not go unpunished. Primus can not protect herself from Unicron's inevitable reign. Goodbye, children of Primus."_

Everything happened at once. Red electricity shot from the fake Vector Sigma at the mechs, and Perceptor shuttered his optics in preparation for his death, but it never came. He opened his optics to see the somewhat wraithlike form of Ratchet standing protectively in front of him, taking the shot.

Judging by the sudden cold feeling in the room, each guardian spirit had done the same. Perceptor's optics widened at Ratchet's tensed up position, a very tight-lipped frown on the medic's face. That frown spoke worlds of pain to the scientist. The red electricity kept coming in a continuous stream. Something was happening to Ratchet's back, like something was shifting beneath his armor.

"Ratchet! Get out of the way!" Perceptor felt more than he heard himself scream. The medic just shook his head, just before his knees buckled and he let out an unearthly wail.

The sound of his scream of pain sent fear straight into Perceptor's spark. He heard some other ghosts begin screaming, and it only tripled his fear. He wanted to turn around and run as fast as he could, and if he hadn't been tethered to the ground, he may have. He vaguely realized this was the first time he had heard any of the ghosts make any sort of sound, and maybe this was the reason they never had spoken, even in the language of the dead.

Two shadows stepped from the wall and one stood in front of the screaming medic. It kneeled so that they would've been eye-to-eye if the shadow had eyes.

"You will be drawn into oblivion if you don't step aside now," the shadow whispered. Ratchet forced down his screams enough to hiss something in his own language, eyes flashing defiantly.

"You would be willing to do so? Just for them?" the shadow asked. Ratchet forced a nod, and hissed something.

"… You're brave."

Ratchet began screaming again and something ripped the armor on his back from the inside. Two black bat-like wings came out, dripping in energon, and the blue lifeblood leaked from the rips they had made. Red runes glowed from under the liquid brightly, and the sound of ripping metal informed Perceptor that the same thing was happening to each and every one of the ghosts. Perceptor wasn't paying any attention to that, though.

"Ratchet!" he shouted, somehow knowing what was about to happen.

"You're coming with us!" the shadow moved suddenly and wrapped his surprisingly solid arms around the scientist's waist and ripped him free of the vines. Before Perceptor had a chance to notice that the shadow had taken the form of a spookily familiar blue seeker he was flying away.

"Release me! They could still be saved!" Perceptor started struggling against Thundercracker's grip, but said grip only tightened.

"They're gone, fool. If you go back their sacrifice is worth nothing!" he hissed in the scientist's audio receptor.

"_Please!_ Let me go back!"

"No!"

From behind them, there was one long howl of pain, seemingly times six, and an explosion. A wave of black and red energy stretched from the source of the explosion and engulfed all of Vector Sigma.

---

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked up at the ethereal scream, and the walls around them melted and reformed.

---

"What the slag is that?!" Kup shouted over the sound, clutching his audio receptors.

"They're screaming. They're screaming in pain," Optimus said, optics looking a little glazed.

"Who? Who's screaming? What are you talking about?" the veteran asked.

"I'm not sure." And everything was awash with black and red.

---

"AAAHHHH! TOO REAL! TOO REAL! NOT JOKE! NOT JOKE!" Bluestreak drove blindly through the maze, trying to outrun the terrifying screams. The last he remembered was black and red light before darkness.

---

Soundwave let out a mechanical cry of pain when Unicron's presence swelled suddenly and rebuked his mind, flinging it to the edge of his consciousness. He couldn't hear the mental cries from his casseticons, demanding that he tell them if he was alright. All he knew was that something terribly wrong was happening.

---

"Hot Rod! What… what is happening?!" Red Alert shouted, just at the edge of the maze.

"I don't know!"

A growing red and black bubble engulfed the back-up group of the Dinobots, Red Alert, and Hot Rod.

---

Somewhere, in a place outside of time and space, God swore loudly.

---

Thundercracker carried the poor limp scientist in his arms with care that was not usually associated with Decepticons. The scientist's optics were dim, as they had been since the explosion. Perceptor had made no more movement or protest the entire flight after that moment, even though he was obviously still awake.

The seeker sighed and looked at his companions. Skywarp was carrying Jazz, who had been forced into stasis lock early on since the purple seeker simply could not hold a struggling saboteur for long. The Dinobot and the red minibot had been forced into stasis lock for the same reasons. The both of them were being carried by Insecticon clones, (Grimlock being carried by three of them.)

The Autobot geologist hadn't said a word the whole time, except to reassure Bumblebee (who happened to be the only other Autobot in the mental state to comprehend his words, seeing as Perceptor wasn't responding to anything and the others were in stasis lock...) Bumblebee had almost invisible coolant stains on his cheeks, just a reminder on how young he truly was. Both minibots were carried by Insecticons.

Thundercracker finally let his gaze wonder to the ground below. They were miles up, miles higher than they had ever been in robot form while they were alive. Below them were the snowy peaks of mountains and bluish wisps of clouds. The ground looked bluish purple, though that was probably a trick of the light. How they had gotten to this place, to this world, was unknown. He had theories, but no one was in the mood to hear them yet. Tomorrow, when the Autobots had a chance to come to terms with what had happened.

Thundercracker held back the slightest smirk at his musings. He'd changed. When had he ever been so… _sensitive_ about this kind of thing? He knew why. He learned what it was like. He knew of the shock, and death had a tendency to put things in perspective. It didn't matter now, though.

The mountains beneath them disappeared to be replaced by a cliff with towering trees on, behind, and below it. He signaled to the others of the group and they all lightly landed on the edge of the cliff. Darkness pervaded all, as it was nighttime and there was little moonlight despite the now-cloudless sky. The ghosts walked into the forest like shadows and slid in between trees, almost as though they were just illusions. Thundercracker stopped when he found a satisfactory place where the trees were watching them intensely.

The blue seeker gently laid the scientist at the base of a particularly large oak, right where the roots formed to make a comfortable bed. Skywarp and the Insecticons took their cues from their seemingly-elected leader and rested their own charges around the clearing. The Autobots that were still awake fell asleep almost as soon as they were lying down. Lack of recent recharge finally took its toll.

A finger lingered on the trunk of the tree he was next to. Thundercracker looked up at the leaves and mighty trunk, tall enough to even dwarf a transformer as a normal red wood dwarfed a human.

"Watch them, and make sure they do themselves no harm in their sleep or once they're awake," he said. The trees around them rustled in response, and the seeker noticed some roots curling around their charge protectively and moss crawled around each Autobot like a blanket. It was really amazing how hospitable the spirits of dead trees would be.

_"You all, please go find Optimus Prime and lead his group through this world safely, and find an escort for the others. It is too dangerous for them to be here alone,"_ Thundercracker said in the language of the dead to the Insecticons.

_"Optimus… the big red and blue one, right? How will we tell him, him?" _the ghost of Shrapnel asked.

_"He was one of us, once. Our language isn't forgotten as easily as theirs,"_ Thundercracker said. The Insecticons didn't say anymore as they flew up and split up in the sky, each going their own way. Probably to go to their many connections in this world. Thundercracker sighed and made his way through the forest, vaguely aware that Skywarp was following him.

Thundercracker stood at the edge of the cliff, looking up at the sliver of moon with his hands clasped behind his back. He continued staring while Skywarp stood next to him.

"Never took you for the softy type," the purple jet lightly teased.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Thundercracker said, the slightest amused smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm talking about coddling the Autobots. Seriously, you asked the freaking _trees_ to keep an eye on them."

"The flora are very good protectors."

"Exactly. Since when do we care about their wellbeing?"

"Maybe since we died? Maybe since we stopped caring about the insignias a Cybertronian may carry?" Thundercracker gestured to his comrade's wings where the Decepticon insignia no longer lay. "We sort of made that choice the moment we ripped those things off."

Skywarp looked at his wing critically. "True, true. I guess that helping them doesn't _really_ bother me. What are we going to tell them when they wake up, though? 'Oh, sorry, your friends have died twice and now do not exist anymore in this life or the next. Better luck next time!' Oh, no. I doubt we can say that."

"We're not. There's hope. They could always plead their case with Primus."

"Her? You think that they have any chance with her at all?" Skywarp raised an optic ridge skeptically.

"Things are weird, who knows, maybe she'll be nice. Right now, just let them sleep. They've had a long day, and there's a long day ahead of them." Thundercracker looked up at the moon again, watching a bat flutter towards it.

A/N

Well, here's a new chapter. (I should probably get working on my other stories.) But anyway, I'm a little worried about OOCness here, but my defense is that the guys didn't just lose friends, they lost bondeds. My beta is Maieve Avvi as you probably know if you've read my other A/N's and I'd like you to review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing 'cept the storyline.


	9. The Raccoon, the Girl, and the Wanderer

Perceptor woke up to one of the weirdest good mornings he had ever experienced. A tree seemed to be holding him in its roots. As soon as he woke up, however, the roots retreated and allowed him freedom in his movement. He looked up confusedly at the tree, and the leaves rustled cheerfully in greeting. He turned around to see a cube of energon shoved at him.

"What…?"

"Drink up. Your energy levels are low," a rough voice said.

Perceptor raised an optic ridge at Thundercracker. "What did you put in it?" he asked suspiciously.

The jet fighter sighed and rolled his optics, apparent tenderness gone. "Energy. Taken from your world, so it's safe. Drink it." He pushed it at the scientist again.

Perceptor decided that the jet really didn't have reason to do him harm, especially when he was so vulnerable last night. He took the cube and drank it gratefully. Thundercracker nodded in approval.

"Maybe you can get your comrades to drink. You're the only one so far who'll take energon from a 'Decepti-creep.' Then again, your geologist is just too wrapped up in his conversation to actually register that…" Thundercracker said, standing. Perceptor sat up and looked around. Indeed, Cliffjumper was sitting with his arms crossed stubbornly; Jazz and Bumblebee were looking suspiciously at the seeker; Grimlock was muttering something unintelligible, and Beachcomber was deep in conversation with a raccoon. And oddly enough, the raccoon was responding.

Perceptor decided to push aside that fact and ask about it later.

Thundercracker looked a little awkward standing there. He finally left, only patting the oak tree Perceptor was leaning against. There was a long silence among the group.

"You truly should have some energon. Who knows when we shall be able to consume some again?" Perceptor said.

Bumblebee and Jazz deflated. "We know. I just don't trust them," Jazz said.

"To tell you the truth, we don't really have reason to mistrust them anymore," Beachcomber said, looking away from the raccoon with the appearance of being perfectly aware of what was going on around him.

"What are you talking about?! They're part of the reason our friends are dead in the first place! And it's their fault we couldn't go back and save them," Cliffjumper burst out angrily.

Perceptor studied the dregs of his energon sadly. "As I regret to admit it, we couldn't have saved them even if the seekers hadn't interfered. Unicron had meant to destroy us, and they took the brunt of his fury for us. We wouldn't have been able to save them from the Chaos Bringer."

Cliffjumper punched the ground. "We could've tried."

"And get yourself killed? What help would you be then?" the raccoon asked. Everyone stared at him.

"And what's with the raccoon?!" Cliffjumper shouted. The raccoon scratched an ear.

"You think that humans and you guys are the only sentient ones? Oh no, the trees, the plants, the animals, even the grass beneath your feet are perfectly sentient, just unable to communicate in a language you understand. Around here, we have more freedom of form and movement so I'm able to speak English words, the trees are able to move their roots and leaves on command, and the flowers can cuss you out for stepping on them." He paused. "You'd be surprised of the sheer size of a flower's vocabulary. They sound like freaking sailors."

"Er, do you have a name…?" Bumblebee asked the eccentric raccoon.

"I have one in my own language, though you wouldn't really be able to say it. Just call me Stripey. That's what a little human girl once called me when she was chasing me through the woods. For all their faults, human offspring are kinda cute…"

"Okay, er, _Stripey_, could ya tell us where we are?" Jazz asked.

Stripey crossed his paws. "First you drink something. TC and 'Warp went through a lot of trouble getting that stuff, the least you can do is drink it."

Cliffjumper glared at the raccoon, but he took a tentative drink. Jazz, Bumblebee, and Beachcomber followed suit, and Grimlock, though not paying any attention, just drank his cube half-consciously and went back to his angry muttering.

"Okay, story time kiddies!" Stripey made himself comfortable on the ground. "Let's see if I can explain it all. Right now you're in a world that is not that of the living, but not quite one of the dead, either. This is I guess you could say purgatory. This is one usually first goes when they die, and generally they go on to the 'Matrix' as soon as they wake up."

"'Generally'?" Bumblebee asked.

"Well, people don't always move on. Sometimes they have unfinished business, sometimes they aren't ready to move on, sometimes they're too angry at a murderer or a tormentor to go on, sometimes they feel they are still needed… although it's usually the second-to-last reason. Very few people stay around because they care." Stripey rolled his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Perceptor asked.

"Well, when you die, life doesn't matter anymore. Loves that used to be the center of your life are fading memories, fears and worries are just out of reach, and you just don't care what happens to them. Most people forget the language they spoke all their lives within the first few years, sometimes months, and then memories of their lives fade, all because they just don't_care_. I know dozens, perhaps hundreds, of humans who have forgotten their spouse's, children's, parents', siblings', and friends' names, only to have a random person who just died come up to them crying, claiming to be one of the above. The Insecticons, even, have upped and forgotten how to speak any language besides that of the dead, and they forgot the names of the factions and of anyone on them, and they're starting to forget what side of the war they were even on. Why would you care about people who let you die?" Stripey smoothed out his tail with a black paw.

"But Thundercracker and Skywarp were able to talk to us fine!" Jazz pointed out.

"There are, for all intents and purposes, stuck." Stripey shrugged.

"Why?" Bumblebee asked.

"Cyclonus and Scourge. The two Unicronians were made from TC's and Skywarp's bodies, so in a way they are bound to the land of the living. The same rule applies to the Insecticons."

"Excuse me if I have trouble believing those Decepticons don't have an ulterior motive," Cliffjumper growled suspiciously.

"Hey, I'm telling you like it is. 'Sides, they aren't Decepticons anymore. Didn't you notice their wings?"

"They didn't…"

"They didn't have an insignia, that's right. They took them off years ago."

"How do you know all this?" Jazz asked.

Stripey stretched out. "I watch, walk around, and I talk to the right people. But to tell you the truth, by this world's standards I'm not a gossip hotline in the least. You have no idea how many tidbits people are able to pick up around here." He straightened and curled a tail around his paws.

"Honestly, I'm surprised your friends were willing to help you in the first place. It was an invitation for more pain. First time I've seen someone care that much about those they left behind," Stripey said.

"You can't be serious. Surely there are others…" Perceptor trailed off.

"Nope. You'd be surprised how much you learn about someone when they die. Most people who once said that they loved someone forget them immediately. Of course it's not completely unheard-of for someone to wait for someone they loved in life, but it's rare."

Stripey sighed and looked skyward. "It's not a good thing that Unicron managed to bring you here. The balance is bad enough as it is."

"What do you mean?" Bumblebee asked.

The trees rustled, and voices arose in whispers only they were just quiet enough to not be decipherable.

"Eh, don't mind me. I'm just rambling at this point. Anyway, there's still hope your friends can be saved," Stripey said.

"What?! How me, Grimlock, save Ratchet and Wheeljack?!" Grimlock said immediately. Well, there are some ways of getting people out of episodes…

"Primus. She's a cold, cold woman but she may help you," Stripey said seriously.

"That's right! She said that she'd let them come back to life, didn't she?" Bumblebee asked excitedly. "So if we could just talk to her…"

"Don't get your hopes up. She isn't exactly the most giving soul, she may view the fact she's giving them a chance in the first place as enough on her part. You'll be hard pressed to convince her otherwise." Perceptor raised an optic ridge and frowned. Stripey's expression said that he was holding something back, but he seemed to be the only one to notice. Not only that, but the raccoon sounded bitter, angry.

"Me, Grimlock, make Primus give Ratchet and Wheeljack back!" Grimlock said fiercely.

"Good luck with that," Stripey said. There was an almost imperceptible bitter undertone to his words. "But anyway, there's still the whole problem of Vector Sigma exploding. If you finish that up fast, God will probably be a little nicer to you. I suggest talking to TC and 'Warp. They're just outside of the woods on a cliff, you can't miss it."

Cliffjumper especially looked a little reluctant to get help from the seekers, newly neutral or not, but he got up with a more enthusiastic Grimlock and followed Bumblebee, Jazz, and Beachcomber in the direction the talking raccoon indicated. Perceptor glanced at said raccoon suspiciously.

"What are you concealing from us?" he asked bluntly.

Stripey raised an eye ridge. "Nothing that you would miss. Nothing that you need to know. Nothing that I think you could help anyway. Why haven't you mourned?" The last statement made Perceptor pause, optics wide. It was just long enough for the raccoon to run into the underbrush and disappear.

Perceptor frowned. That raccoon was good. Though, why Stripey may've wanted to invoke enough emotions in the scientist for him to have time to run away without anymore questions was a mystery.

He sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get any answers from the wayward raccoon. He settled for following his friends through the woods to where the seekers were said to be.

--

Bluestreak moaned as his optics onlined. Someone was rubbing his shoulder soothingly, making small 'shushing' sounds. He looked to see who the source of this was, and he saw a petite human woman with a kind face. She had mousy brown hair with light brown eyes, though she had a slightly unhealthy pale tinge to her. She smiled sweetly.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

The Datsun coughed a little and looked around. "Where… where am I?" he asked. The woman looked around at the bank of a river that they were sitting on. She looked back at the Autobot and saw him looking around at the waterfall roaring to their left and the flowers growing in the grassy patches waving slightly in the wind.

"It doesn't really matter. Wherever you think you are, you are." She turned to him. "But enough of that. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I think." Bluestreak looked down at himself and there weren't any obvious wounds.

"Good, good. What is your name?" the woman asked.

"I'm Bluestreak, ma'am. What's your name?" he asked.

"I'm Dolores, how did you come to be here?" she asked kindly.

"Well, I don't know. I was with my commander and comrades looking for some other comrades that went missing and then everything went dark and I was alone and at first I thought it was a prank since it wouldn't be the first time but then some terrible-sounding screams came from everywhere and I tried running but then this black and red light came and I woke up here and I don't know where I am or why I'm here or where my friends are but I don't feel really scared I mean it's not that bad of a place to wake up in, is it?" Bluestreak started to ramble.

Dolores chuckled lightly, but her eyes became sad. "You poor dear, you don't need this. You shouldn't have to deal with suddenly being alone in a strange place. It can be dangerous around these parts, and who knows when you'll find your comrades. God knows you deal with enough as it is."

Bluestreak stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, Bluestreak! It's written on your face, the things you must have gone through! Oh no, you have a face made for smiling but forced into frowns too often. I can see it," she said, running a gentle hand on his cheek. Bluestreak was comforted by her obvious sympathy, but unsettled by her so easily reading him.

"I, um, want to find my comrades. They could get hurt or I could get hurt and I'm worried about them and where they went and I want to find the comrades that left in the first place so that they could hopefully tell me what's going on…"

"It's okay… It's okay… I will help you find them, but first you have to eat and drink. You look so hungry," she said soothingly. "I know that your race usually drink energy, but this river water is just as good. It nourishes you and I the same." Her eyes spoke such earnest truth that Bluestreak felt safer than he had in a while. Dolores turned to the river and reached into the pocked of her skirt, taking out a crystal goblet. It glittered briefly in the light before she dipped it in the water and brought it to Bluestreak.

"Drink," she said, giving him the goblet. It looked very small and delicate in his hand, but the water looked clean and oddly inviting. He brought the goblet to his lips and tilted back his head.

"No!"

Someone slapped the goblet out of his hand and the water splashed out onto the grass. Bluestreak looked up to see someone hold a dagger to the throat of Dolores.

"Begone, Temptress! He is not to be used in your sick game of bait and trap!" the girl growled.

"What?" Bluestreak jumped up in confusion.

Dolores's eyes narrowed. "Of what concern is it yours? He is mine," she hissed.

"Not now. I am his guide," the girl said. Dolores bared slightly pointed teeth, and glared at Bluestreak like it was _his_ fault, and then she disappeared. The dagger holder looked at her blade.

"Good thing she doesn't know how to fight. I can't really use this well." She threw the knife to the side gingerly, suddenly very obvious in a need to get away from it. She kicked it into the water, letting out a small yelp when her foot touched it. She turned around, giving Bluestreak a full view of her front. "You moron! You don't accept anything from these creatures!"

Bluestreak didn't take notice of what she was saying. He was preoccupied with her appearance. Really, there was not much different about her. She had dark black chin-length hair with icy blue eyes. She wasn't particularly pretty, nor was she ugly. She had a red scarf tied around her neck tightly, and her shirt was absolutely drenched in blood.

Bluestreak's horror must've shown on his face, as the girl looked confused for a moment then looked down at herself.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. That's been there forever, don't mind it." She looked up at him.

"Anyway, I can understand how you would fall into The Temptress's trap; she is well practiced and good at what she does. For future reference, don't eat or drink anything that comes from here. It is… poisoned, shall we say, and if anyone who doesn't belong here eats or drinks it, they die."

"Um, thanks for that information, but who are you and what just happened and why was Dolores trying to kill me and how did she disappear because this is really getting confusing and if there are others like Dolores around here I'm worried about everyone else and-" he stopped when the girl held up her hands.

"One question at a time. My name is Kelly; Dolores tried to kill you because she likes killing people. A lot of people around here like doing that. She disappeared because she can and apparently she likes dramatic exits. There are others who will try to kill you and your friends, but there are people like me, your 'guides', who are helping you people through this place. Come with me, a friend of mine is looking for some comrades of yours and I think we should meet up."

Kelly turned and walked briskly away, leaving Bluestreak with the choice of running around a foreign environment with hostile inhabitants or go with the strange girl. He chose the latter.

--

Red Alert was not happy. He was not happy in the least.

Here he was, with Hot Rod and the Dinobots, in a cold forest in the middle of winter on the full moon when, just a moment ago, he was in a metal maze. Now his poor processors were trying to make sense of the whole situation.

He grimaced and looked around. The forest was dead, no question about it. The trees were stripped bare of leaves, the ground was covered with a couple feet of snow, moonlight cast an eerie light on it, and there was only one path that led straight forward. It was the perfect place for an ambush, and he could swear that the Decepticons were behind it.

Besides the obvious tactical disadvantages to this place, Red Alert couldn't help but feel chilled to the spark when he looked around. Everything, the trees, the road, stretched on forever. They were all alone, and one could almost believe that they were the only ones in the world. The silence beneath the shuffle and pound of feet was deafening, threatening them like a lion who had them cornered and who was ready to pounce. Wind blew through the trees, but there were no leaves to rustle. The snow around the trees was free of tracks.

It was a ghost forest, a dead forest. No animals. No humans. No living beings. They were all gone.

The Dinobots were just plowing along on the apparently-shoveled dirt road. They had approached their task single-mindedly ever since they discovered Grimlock missing that night. Hot Rod didn't seem affected by the situation and followed the Dinobots. Red Alert was the only one looking around suspiciously, waiting for someone to jump out at them.

"Me, Swoop, see something!" Swoop cried out. Hot Rod and Red Alert looked to where the Dinobot indicated curiously. Someone was at the center of the road, waiting for them with a lantern up high. It was too far to make out what it was, but Red Alert's sensors began to spark warningly.

"I don't like this, Hot Rod. I don't like this," he muttered.

"They haven't made any aggressive movements yet. It's fine for now," Hot Rod murmured.

"It only takes one surprise Decepticon attack to offline us all!" Red Alert pointed out.

"Red Alert is annoying me, Snarl," Snarl said. Red Alert huffed but didn't say anything more.

Red Alert got more and more nervous as they drew close to the figure. The figure didn't move, and they eventually couldn't go any farther without crashing into it.

Both parties were silent. "Could you move, please?" Hot Rod asked.

The figure moved its head, or where one would assume its head was in the dark. "You are unwise to travel this land without a guide. Stay with me," a feminine voice said.

"I don't like this…" Red Alert muttered. He was ignored.

"Who are you?" Hot Rod asked. The figure held her lantern a little higher.

She was cloaked head to toe, and Hot Rod dimly remembered from the human cultures that she was wearing a burqa. It was basically a thick blue piece of fabric that went over her head and covered everything down to the ground. There was netting over where her eyes would be, giving her view outside but letting no one see in. Blood blossomed over her chest, and the mere sight of her sent Red Alert's sensors into overdrive.

"I am The Wanderer. I was sent by friends and foes alike to help you through this world. Come, these woods hold dangers. 'Tis best if we keep moving." She turned down the path and started down it, lantern bobbing with the movement.

"How did you get that blood on you?" Red Alert asked.

The Wanderer paused. "You needn't fear. The blood is my own." With that, she began to walk steadily forward. The Dinobots and Hot Rod followed her, and a suspicious Red Alert walked behind them.

--

Optimus grunted and sat up, rubbing his head while onlining his optics and looking around.

…

Okay, how in the _pit_ did they get in an Earth cave?

The Autobot commander stood up unsteadily and looked around for Kup and Blurr. Both mechs were lying on the floor next to him, just waking up.

"What the slag?" Kup said out loud.

"What-just-happened-where-are-we-who-was-screaming-that-didn't-sound-good-in-fact-it-sounded-really-scary-I-don't-like-this!" Blurr started talking before his optics even onlined.

_"Who is the talky one, one?"_

_"I don't know. Something about looking fuzzy I think."_

_"Short sighted-ness?"_

_"Nah."_

The three Autobots stiffened. "What-is-that?" Blurr asked, voice trembling.

"They're trying to guess your name, Blurr," Optimus said.

"Huh? You're able to understand it? I'm just hearing a lot of noisy hisses and snarls," Kup said, tensed up as though ready to spring into battle any moment.

_"Oh! I think they heard us. The seeker said that the red and blue one should understand us, stand us."_

_"Well let's see. Do you understand? (What was his name? Oh yeah…) Do you understand, Optimus?"_

_"I understand fine, who are you and why wouldn't I?"_ Optimus asked. Blurr and Kup both looked at him oddly, the former with fear in his eyes.

"Op-Optimus…" Blurr said, speaking at a slightly normal pace in his fright.

_"He understands! Don't look so confused, they don't understand because they were never one of us. You were here before, or do you not remember?"_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Maybe you would remember if you saw us…?"_

To the Autobots' immense confusion, three shadows jumped from the walls, each of them small, stout, and oddly familiar. Depth and color bled into the shadows and they took the form of three mechs who died a very long time ago.

"WHAT THE SLAG ARE THE INSECTICONS DOING HERE?!"

A/N

Okay, so finally, FINALLY, I updated one of my stories. Sorry for the delay, there's really no excuse for it besides the fact that real life was being nasty. I hope I didn't disappoint with the new chapter! Thank my beta for betaing, and thank yourselves for being patient.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I never claimed I did. (Okay, I own a few things but nothing that anyone can sue me over.)


	10. Sirens and Transformation

"Well? Have you gotten over your little episode?" Thundercracker asked.

"Yeah, thanks for helping us," Jazz said.

"No problem. If you want to save the Cybertronian race, we have to fly there. Hmmm, you can't fly, can you?" Thundercracker noted, shifting his weight on the brown earth that made the cliff.

"No," Cliffjumper said shortly.

"We have to change that, don't we? Wait a minute…." Thundercracker shifted his weight again and concentrated for a moment. Before anyone had a chance to enquire as to what he was doing, he waved a hand, and the Autobots' worlds shrunk.

Before they knew it, Skywarp burst into laughter and Thundercracker was desperately holding back chuckles. Perceptor was suddenly afraid to know why the seekers suddenly looked extremely tall, or why his eyesight felt off. He braced himself and looked down.

He was a bird. He was a Primus forsaken _bird._

Perceptor's scientific mind immediately analyzed his new body. He had a blue breast and neck, and by quickly examining his light brown wings he judged himself to be the earth breed of Cordon Bleu, and since he was male he assumed he had the breed's red mark above both of his ears.

Oooh… was that a _worm_ he just saw slithering through the grass? It looked so fat and delicious… He took two hops forward and nearly dipped his head to eat it, but then the Autobot in him jerked him away. No. He was _not_ about to eat a worm and become a slave to his form.

He looked around and saw Jazz, now Jazz the Peking Nightingale. He had an orange breast and light yellow feathers on the tips of his wings, and generally he was light green. Jazz looked at Perceptor as if to ask, _'What on Cybertron just happened?'_

Perceptor swung his head around and saw a confused Bumblebee and a fuming Cliffjumper. Cliffjumper was a Cutthroat finch, and had the breed's traditional brown feathers with a bright red stripe that went around his neck. Bumblebee looked taller than Cliffjumper, surprisingly, and Perceptor judged him to be a Sun Conure. He had a bright yellow breast with dull red along the edges, though green prevailed the rest of him.

Perceptor looked around to find Beachcomber and Grimlock, and he found them both behind him. There was radical difference between their breeds. Beachcomber was a simple white dove with a pinkish beak and bright white feathers, and Grimlock was a falcon. Grimlock was a freaking _falcon_.

Perceptor subconsciously hopped back a few steps.

"Well, that solved that problem," Thundercracker commented. Cliffjumper let out several angry and probably vulgar chirps. The seeker shrugged. Perceptor got distracted briefly because he noticed a bush around one of the trees covered by small, bird-bit-sized red berries. They looked tasty. They were round and fat, little drops of dew dripping off of the red flesh. He wanted to have one. He hopped forward, intent on taking one, when he stopped. Wasn't there something about this world's food being dangerous for the living?

First the worm and now this. Perceptor shook off the strong temptation and concentrated on what Thundercracker was saying.

"Sorry, but it's the only thing I can think of right now. Do any of you know how to fly?"

Unanimous shaking of heads.

"Well, there's no time like the present. C'mon little birdies!" Skywarp said cheerfully, transforming and taking off. Cliffjumper jumped up and shot after him, screeching what everyone assumed to be obscenities. Perceptor inwardly marveled at how easily the previously red minibot took to the air. It only confirmed the rumor that Cliffjumper could do anything if one got him angry enough.

Grimlock hopped off the cliff and swooped with the two awkwardly. Giving a bird-like frown, he started flapping his wings harder against the air. It only served to make him unbalanced, and with an irritated caw, he struggled to imitate Cliffjumper.

Bumblebee reluctantly hopped to the edge and, with Beachcomber, took off. Both of them were nearly blown away by the wind, Bumblebee flipping upside-down for a moment. Bumblebee let out a panicked collection of chirps and Beachcomber swooped under him, but there was no need. Bumblebee righted himself and started flapping his wings unevenly. It wasn't perfect flying, but he wasn't plummeting to the ground.

Perceptor glanced at Jazz worriedly. Jazz chirped reassuringly and led the unsure scientist-turned-bird to the edge. Perceptor looked like he was ready to jump away from the cliff and try to hop all the way to wherever the seekers led them, but a sharp jab from Jazz's beak told him that that wouldn't be okay.

Jazz jumped into the air, trying to figure out how hard and often he had to flap immediately, but Perceptor was having trouble even getting that far. He flapped one wing, nearly flipping over in a way similar to Bumblebee, then quickly flapping the other to right himself. A gust of wind came and swept him up, and for a moment he froze. The ground was miles and miles down. It looked like he would fall forever if he ever spontaneously turned back into a Cybertronian, which there was a possibility of seeing as he had no clue how this world's 'magic' worked, and further more…

Oh, wait. He had stopped flapping. And he was falling.

Perceptor started flapping his wings erratically, trying to find another updraft.

"Find a rhythm. Don't try so hard," a gruff voice said. Perceptor cocked his head to see the blue seeker watching him from above. He steadied his breathing and concentrated on slowing his movements. His new bird instincts took over for him and he was flying normally.

"Don't tire yourselves out too much, birdies. We've got one long flight ahead of us!" Skywarp said. There were several bird-like moans.

--

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stared. They stared for a very long time. Both had totally bemused expressions, and both couldn't seem to stop staring.

"How in Primus's name…?" Sideswipe began, but couldn't finish. Sunstreaker shivered in the cold.

They were in a snowy valley. There were huge amounts of the tiny white crystals, almost completely burying the twins' calves and looking like it was going to try to reach their hips. A human could've been buried standing up in it and the twins wouldn't be able to notice. It would be Pit trying to walk through it. There were huge mountains around them covered with an even thicker blanket of snow, and the mountains surrounded the valley. I was hard to see anything through the snow, although Sideswipe could swear he saw the distant glow of a fire on one of the mountains.

"So… how do we get out?" the red twin asked.

"How should I know?" Sunstreaker asked irritably. Sideswipe shrugged and started trudging through the snow, having to dig through it at points.

"Where are you going?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Well, we're not getting anywhere just standing here, now are we? C'mon Sunny, snow and ice shouldn't hurt your paint job too bad," Sideswipe said. Sunstreaker grumbled a little at the hated nickname but he followed his twin.

It was too snowy for this. It was way too snowy. Sunstreaker actually wondered if he should shut off his coolant system. Ice was melting and re-freezing in their joints and servos painfully, and both of them wondered if this could turn out to be a serious problem. It was getting to the point where the ice was getting too close to re-freezing in important circuitry to be comfortable.

Sunstreaker could have sworn that he caught sight of vapor coming off his armor. It was odd, seeing as his armor was usually only a little warmer than a human's average body temperature. He scowled as he knelt down, thrusting his hand through the stinging cold to break away some of the ice gathering in the servos of his lower legs. He wasn't a medic, but it didn't take much expertise to know that any human, Spike, Carly, Daniel, or whoever, wouldn't be able to survive long in this.

Sideswipe had lost count of how many times he had to wipe his optics clean only to have them blinded again. His thoughts had long-since regressed to one long whine that he didn't think his brother was in the mood to listen to. It was cold, it was dark, snow kept on gathering on their optics making it near impossible to see, and there was children's laughter in the distance…

Hold up. What was that last part?

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both strained their audio sensors to catch the sound. It was indeed children laughing. The twins walked in the direction of it, and at the center of the snow storm there were six girls throwing snow balls at each other and running around on the snow.

"Hello? Who are you?" Sideswipe called. The girls paused in their game, all of them looking up to see their metal observers.

Muted silence stretched, making the sound of snow falling seem deafening. The girls' expressions ranged from surprised, to disturbingly content, to expressionless. Slowly, one girl walked to the twins and smiled. Snow stuck to her hair, turning it white, and apparently she had been in the cold far too long as purplish frostbite was on her fingers, her lips were blue, and her skin was abnormally pale.

"My name is Istas. Will you play with us?" she asked sweetly.

"What? Fleshy, how long have you been out here?"

"You're fingers are frostbitten, you need to get to your house!"

Istas looked down at her purple fingers briefly before looking back at them. "I've been out here for a long time. If you play a game with us we'll go to someplace warm."

The twins looked at her in horror. "You. Have. Frost. Bite. That. Can. Kill. You." Sunstreaker emphasized each word carefully.

Istas shook her head slightly. "Aminta doesn't allow us up where it's warm. She won't allow us to play near where she lives. We can't go up there," she said, gesturing vaguely around.

"Well you can take us to this Aminta and we can tell her she'd better help you!" Sideswipe said.

Istas cocked her head and smiled. "Just one game? Please?" she asked.

Sideswipe sighed and turned to his twin. "Okay, Sunny, I don't think she's going to budge on this. What's the harm in one game?" he asked.

Sunstreaker sighed. "This is going to ruin my finish, I know it. Okay, we'll play."

The girls all cheered and quickly gathered snowballs. "Think fast!" one girl giggled and a snowball hit Sideswipe on the shoulder. In comes the prankster's playful demeanor.

"I'll get you for that!" he grinned and flung a transformer-size snowball at the offending girl. She screamed in delight as she tried to evade the giant snowball.

"You'll pay for that!" Istas shouted playfully, and she started pelting Sideswipe with snowballs for the offense done to her friend.

Sunstreaker bent down and scooped up a snowball and swung it like a baseball at Istas. The girl somersaulted out of the way and the snow burst into a cloud against the ground.

Sunstreaker felt a snowball slap against the back of his neck. Before he had a chance to so much as swear the ice in the snowball trickled through the seams of his armor and shorted out his circuits. His body temporarily shut down and fell to the ground, though he was still aware of everything.

"Sunny..." Sideswipe didn't get any farther. A loud _thwack_ informed the golden warrior that his twin suffered the same fate as he. Istas stood up and brushed herself off, never taking her eyes from the twins. She picked up another snowball slowly, and it was only now that either twin noticed how she and the other girls were always on top of the snow, never in it.

"Cold… It is very cold, isn't it?..." she murmured. She walked over to Sunstreaker and, as if she were simply rolling a teddy bear over, she turned him so he was on his back. The snow hissed against the yellow warrior's heated back, but slowly, the cold began to seep in. Sunstreaker glared at her and swore that as soon as his systems rebooted…

Painful cold jolted through his arm as Istas packed the snowball into Sunstreaker's wrist, and she began packing snow into his joints and against his armor. Cold pinpricked him with each flake that touched his servos, confusing his systems and making it all register as pain. Two girls wordlessly followed their apparent leader and began packing snow against the golden warrior, and Sunstreaker assumed that the last three girls were doing to same to Sideswipe. Cold. Oh Primus, it was so cold. He mentally shook himself out of the stupor threatening to envelop him. Okay, his computer was almost rebooted, three, two, one…

_"Never look back 'cause it hurts…"_

Sunstreaker paused when Istas started singing softly, oh so softly. Her voice was so quiet that the snow and the cold should have silenced it, but the Autobot could hear it loud and clear.

_"My heart is so cold.  
I feel the frost,  
never look back."_

He thought he heard someone lightly strumming a guitar, and wind chimes sounded in the distance. Nature was singing with the small girl.

_"I feel the darkness on my shoulder,  
the frost is in my heart.  
So cold my hair is frozen,  
touching my skin, my flesh."_

The other girls joined Istas with her singing, and their voices ringing sweetly. They didn't even seem to be singing about the cold anymore. Their voices spoke of something deep inside of the twins, a desire, and they took it and spun it into sound. Their song wasn't about just lyrics. It was about everything, and nothing at the same time. They were singing for every voiceless soul, every silent prayer a child whispered with hope in their mind, every heart broken in all of time. They were singing for the people wrecked by their lives, for all innocence lost, and every bittersweet word that had left a mortal's lips was strung within, falling from their tongues like rain. They sang for the child waiting for death to envelop them like a shadow, but always hoping that one day the shadow would leave. They sang for the mother watching her son leave to go to war, knowing in her heart that she will never see her child again. They sang for the man who had lost everything that he ever held dear and who had no one to talk to. They sang for the girl who blossomed in youth and withered in age, having never experienced love. Sunstreaker's systems registered as rebooted and ready, but he didn't move. He wanted to hear them sing. They were packing snow higher and higher, and he dully realized they were burying him and his twin alive. He didn't care. As long as they kept singing, he didn't care.

As long as they kept singing.

--

Kelly trudged through the snow with Bluestreak in tow. Bluestreak was talking, a lot. She had learned to ignore it about an hour ago.

Bluestreak, for his part, was happy talking and not paying attention to the creepiness of the situation. They had gone from the nice warm place he had landed in to here in only a few miles. Kelly had refused to say why they were there, and he didn't exactly have anywhere else to go so he had to follow her. He looked around while he chattered, just up in the sky. That's odd; he could've sworn he just saw a flock of the most random birds fly overhead…

"Quiet, I think I hear something," Kelly said, ears perking slightly. Bluestreak was silent, and then he heard it to.

_"Sometimes I regret I had to do,  
'cause our love was somehow true.  
But I had to leave you,  
for the sake of the moods."_

"Shit, the Sirens. They've got someone," Kelly growled. She scrambled through the snow until she was able to look down into the valley, and then she swore vehemently.

"What? What?" Bluestreak followed her, and stopped in shock of what he saw in the valley.

Six girls were burying Sideswipe and Sunstreaker alive, and they weren't fighting!

He braced himself to rush at them, but Kelly pulled his wrist. "No! If you go any closer, their song will affect you just as much. They'll bury you to!" That made Bluestreak stop. "Wait for a friend of mine. She was supposed to act as guide for those two down there, but I guess the Sirens got there first."

_"Frozen tears turn into my skin.  
Frozen memories of you.  
Sometimes I see your face,  
as pure as you are mine."_

"But… but… I've got to help them! They're going to die and I'll lose another friend and—" Kelly thwacked Bluestreak to silence him.

"Istas works a certain way. After successfully luring someone into a snowball fight she hits them at their weak point, and then sings to them to calm them to the point of being a rag doll with which she can do as she will. She then buries them into the ice, and moves on with the rest of the Sirens. There's a small time window between when the Sirens leave and their victim actually dies. Oh! Look, someone's coming." She pointed down the hill and Bluestreak could indeed see someone climbing up.

"Thank goodness you're here! I was starting to wonder if you'd get here in time to help," the figure said when she was became more than a blob in the distance. She pulled off a hooded jacket she was wearing at let it fall to the ground.

She was a pretty girl, narrow shoulders, green eyes, and really long black hair that was tied in a braid that reached her waist. She had an identical red scarf to that of Kelly's tied around her neck and a shirt that looked like it used to be green was drenched in blood as well.

"Bluestreak, meet my friend Ciera. Ciera, meet my friend Bluestreak," Kelly said.

"Pleasure to meet you," Ciera said politely.

_"I feel the darkness on my shoulder;  
the frost is in my heart.  
So cold my hair is frozen,  
touching my skin, my flesh."_

Bluestreak didn't return the greeting as he was busy staring horrified at the scene of the twins almost completely buried under the snow and ice. Ciera looked at it with narrowed eyes.

"The Sirens are almost done with the song. There's only about one stanza left. Let's move!"

With that, the three ran from their place above the valley. Bluestreak switched off his audio sensors just when the haunting song began to make him want to lie down in front of the Sirens.

_"Never look back because it hurts.  
My heart is so cold  
I feel the frost,  
never look back."_

Everyone with their hearing still tuned to the song noticed the distant chimes in the distance, moving in time to the song. The Sirens stepped away from the now fully-buried twins and disappeared into the blizzard.

"Bluestreak! Do you have something that could warm them up?" There was a nod. "Turn it on, we need it!"

Bluestreak nearly tripped over himself scrambling to the soon-to-be-graves of the twins, and he turned on his plasma ray and set it on 'heat.'

He shot the gun several times in quick succession at the snow, and it melted under the lasers. Melted ice and snow poured out to the sides, turning into intricate patterns of cold jewels, sparkling in the light of the shots that left Bluestreak's gun's barrel.

"Just keep shooting. We're going to get them out," Kelly said. The snow melted, and only then did Bluestreak relax his aim and look up at the snowy sky above.

--

They had been walking in silence for a while now. The Dinobots don't talk much to begin with, The Wanderer apparently had no need to talk, Red Alert was watching The Wanderer suspiciously, and Hot Rod was just looking at everyone in turn. The air was thick with tension, and he could swear the slightest noise could make someone snap.

Red Alert didn't like The Wanderer, that much was obvious. The fact that The Wanderer didn't seem to trust them much didn't help matters at all. She didn't trust them to have her real name, didn't trust them with enough information… she didn't even trust them to see her slagging _face_.

His thoughts were interrupted by the distant clattering of a caravan and the clip-clop of hooves. The Wanderer stood stock still, and after a moment she turned to the Autobots.

"Our ride is near. Come, we can let no one know what you are. They are liable to allow the information of our whereabouts leak to the wrong people," she whispered.

"How are we going to hide from them if we are riding with them?" Red Alert asked crossly. It was hard to tell with the burqa, but he could swear that The Wanderer looked irritated.

"In this world, I have more power over form than you would in yours. Be silent." With that, she waved her hand.

At first, no one noticed any difference. Red Alert was staring at The Wanderer as though she had gone mad. Then he noticed that she seemed to be his size. And then he noticed he felt something brushing the back of his neck and going down past where a human's shoulder blades would be. More afraid than he thought he had ever been, he reached behind himself and took a handful of the thing that was brushing him and looked at it.

Oh. Great. Primus.

He was holding a handful of wavy, fiery red human hair. He didn't want to _know_ what the rest of him had become.

He looked down, and promptly let out a screech.

Okay, maybe he wasn't a _he_ anymore…

"What did you do to me?!" Red Alert shrieked, and he was horrified to find that his voice was slightly higher than normal.

He could swear The Wanderer was stifling laughter when she said, "I made sure you all would be harder to detect. Here you go." She drew a mirror out from under her burqa and handed it to the security director.

Red Alert looked into its depths and saw a face that did not belong to him. He saw a young beautiful woman, perhaps around her early twenties, with bright blue eyes peering under long curly lashes and red hair that framed her slightly pale face nicely. Red Alert slowly put down the mirror and looked at what he was wearing, and he was mortified to see his dress showed cleavage.

In reality, it really was a nice dress. It was made of red velvet with a little red lace on the neckline. It wasn't tight; in fact the skirt was full enough to billow slightly in the wind. The sleeves were short and ruffled a little. Red Alert silently promised that if anyone dared laugh at him he would rip their eyes out.

He looked up and around at everyone else. The Dinobots looked basically the same: all had broad shoulders with floppy brown hair that went into blue eyes, (Swoop's hair was more blond than brown,) and Snarl and Swoop were a little shorter than Slag and Sludge.

Hot Rod was tall but well muscled with bright blue eyes. His hair was blond with red highlights and was cut like a traditional beach boy's. Currently he was staring at tanned hands that seemed to belong to him now.

The Dinobots seemed to be doing much the same, though Slag was looking around at everyone else. "Why Red Alert look like girl now?" he asked. Red Alert fumed as Hot Rod let out a surprised sound and all eyes went straight to him.

"Why don't you ask The Wanderer," Red Alert hissed each word.

"It was to add realism. Six men being led by me wouldn't look quite normal," The Wanderer said. Red Alert could've sworn there was amusement in her voice and quickly decided that he did not believe her reason. "Come on then, Tobar will only be here for a short while." And with that, she led the group through the growing mist down the road.

The mist thickened until the only thing Red Alert could see was a circle of light ahead of him. He heard a horse snort close by, and immediately he was on his guard.

"Halt! Who goes there?" a loud male voice shouted, causing Red Alert to jump.

"Easy, Tobar. It is merely I and some people I'm guiding," The Wanderer said in a calming voice.

"Aleta? Ah! Come in, I was just about to leave," the man, Tobar, said.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" The Wanderer said, taking Red Alert's hand and leading him through the mist onto a platform through a door, and everything was clear.

"And how many times have I told you I won't stop? I don't care what your blood says, Aleta, but you're a gypsy, through and through." Red Alert looked up at the source of the voice to see a cheerful-looking Roma man with black hair, a mustache, and two merry black eyes. He was by no means a small man, his shoulders were broad, he was tall, he looked strong… everything about him was big. The security director stole a quick look around the room he was in, and he determined it the inside of a colorful caravan. There was a comfortable-looking couch to the side with an obviously well-loved fiddle rested on it. There was a door behind him that led to another caravan that was connected to the one he was in, and he quickly judged it to be a train of caravans.

"And who are these men? And this beautiful young lady?" Tobar asked kindly, smiling through his mustache and patting Red Alert's cheek. Luckily, the Roma didn't notice Red Alert's baffled expression as he turned to The Wanderer.

"This is Hugh, Sam, Neil, George, Max, and Rose," The Wanderer said, pointing to Hot Rod, Swoop, Snarl, Sludge, Slag, and Red Alert in that order. "They need help finding friends. We are going to the outskirts of the Snow Mountains, preferably."

Tobar clapped his massive hands together. "I can take you there, though be careful of the Sirens. They've been very active since this whole upheaval began, though Aminta's presence keeps them well under control. Adrian!" A man that Red Alert hadn't noticed stepped out of the shadows. He wasn't as big as Tobar, but he still looked like he could crush Red Alert's new body with his little finger. He was burly, blond, Caucasian, and looked a lot less friendly than Tobar. There was a suspicious purple bruise that surrounded his neck, but Red had no time to muse on where it may have come from. "Please show these people to their rooms. The nice ones, if you please."

Adrian nodded and led the Autobots through the door and Red Alert noticed an easy conversation start up between The Wanderer and Tobar.

Almost immediately Adrian stopped at some doors in the next room. That was odd; the caravan looked a lot smaller from the outside.

"The men stay here. Make yourselves comfortable," Adrian grunted. The Dinobots picked the same room and Hot Rod was happy to have one to himself. Red Alert grimaced and followed Adrian through another room, which was a kitchen and dining room, to another sort of corridor with two doors.

"One room's yours, the other belongs to the Miss. Make yourself comfortable, dinner is in an hour, and before you ask, our food and drink is safe for your kind," Adrian said. His eyes lingered on the security director for a moment, and Red Alert suddenly felt chilled. Adrian turned smartly and walked down the hall. Red Alert stepped into the indicated room and realized with some relief that it was relatively plain, a bed in the corner and a small window that peered out into the misty darkness. Red Alert sat on the bed and sighed. This had been a very long day.

A/N

First of all, sorry for taking so long. Real life got in the way. Second of all, yay! I finally got it up! -grins- Okay, Maieve Avvi beta'd for me, so we all should thank her grandly. The song is not mine; it is called Frozen by I don't remember who. People seem to think that it is by Within Temptation, but Within Temptation's 'Frozen' is very different from this one. If the formatting came out weird, ignore it. FF is being a little wonky.


	11. The Demons and Saviors

Everyone had been staring at the new arrivals for a full five minutes, and said arrivals were starting to get uncomfortable.

"You're dead. Dead mechs don't come alive without a Quintesson," Kup said very slowly. The Insecticons glanced at Optimus.

_"He said that you shouldn't be here,"_ Optimus translated.

_"We shouldn't be here? Look at yourselves! Living in the land of the dead!"_

_"Or living in the land of the near-dead. Depends on how you look at it, it."_

Optimus frowned under his mask. "They said that we're, 'living in the land of the dead.' I'm afraid to know what that means."

"What are you talking about?" Kup asked. Blurr said something but it was too fast for anyone to catch and no one bothered trying. Optimus translated Kup's question.

_"Surely you know? Unicron brought you here, though how we cannot say."_

_"He brought you here. He killed those long gone and brought you here."_

_"Maybe not 'killed' but locked away. Far away."_

_"He separated you in this land of nightmares and fury."_

_"And set monsters and hardships on your comrades."_

_"But each one has a guide to lead them through those who would do them mischief-"_

_"But even guides don't always reveal all. They should be careful, but you know what they say: dust to dust."_

Optimus stared at the Insecticons for a long time.

"What'd they say?" Kup asked.

"YeahOptimuswhat'dtheysayhuhhuhhuh? Didtheysaywhattheyweretalkingaboutand—" Kup silenced Blurr with a look.

"They said that Unicron brought us here, and that he somehow destroyed 'those long gone,' though they are arguing over whether he destroyed them or not. They also said that Unicron is responsible for all of us separating and that he put everyone in danger. They hinted at allies, though. I was not able to make much sense of it," Optimus said sighing.

"It's obvious that they've gone insane somehow. Maybe the Quintessons brought them back to life and messed with their CPU so they could trick us…? Maybe they know something, what do they mean?" Kup said, assuming a thinking pose.

_"What do you mean?"_ Optimus asked.

_"Primus, you guys can't solve a riddle? It's so sad."_

_"You digress. Anyway, what we mean is that you are in the Primus-forsaken land of the dead. Unicron brought you here. Your friends are Primus-knows where and being attacked by Primus-knows who, a couple of your allies were blown to smithereens though we don't really know what happened to them, and you're all going to die because Unicron is going to blow up Vector Sigma. As you can see, all is happiness and joy."_

Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose, fruitlessly trying to stave off the threatening CPU ache, and sighed. Why did these things get so damn complicated?

---

Red Alert woke up with an insufferable dryness in his throat. It reminded him of when he wanted energon in his original form, and he realized that he was very thirsty. He sat up on the bed and glanced out the window. There wasn't any light, so he judged it to be in the middle of the night. He looked down on the dress he had worn since he had turned human and grimaced. The Wanderer had left him a change of clothes for the night but he had refused to wear it in fear of the clothes being poisoned or something done to them. By now he was almost regretting his decision.

The caravan rattled idly. Oddly enough, the mist outside the window hadn't changed much. Red Alert's entire body cried out for water. It wasn't a feeling he was used to.

He stood up and almost knocked over the bat he had left by his bed, just in case. He steadied it and quickly undid the trip wire he left in front of his door. He opened the door carefully and peered out.

He didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. He stepped lightly to avoid any sound from the floor boards. The wagon jerked suddenly, jumping into the air briefly before hitting the ground again with a clatter. Red Alert gripped small grooves in the walls reflexively and the axles of the caravan groaned with the movement. It was amazing that this thing was still working!

Red Alert only let his white-knuckled grip on the wood loosen when he was sure the rocking went back to its rhythmic tremble. He let out a small sigh of relief and walked the rest of the way to the kitchen.

He looked around the dark kitchen quietly. Spying a water bucket, he walked to it gratefully. He dipped his hands in it and drank the clean water gratefully. There was a bump, and he spun around, allowing the water in his hands to splash to the ground.

Red Alert strained his eyes to see who had made the sound, and his eyes picked out the big form of Adrian.

"I apologize for disturbing you," the man said, though he didn't move nor did he remove his cold eyes from Red.

"No need, I was just going back," Red Alert said, his suspicion kicking into high gear. He carefully moved towards the door, though he noticed with a small grimace he'd have to go past Adrian to go through. Bracing himself, he slid past the man and started down the hallway.

A strong hand gripped his wrist stopped him.

"Release me please," Red Alert said, icy calmness disguising the sudden fear that sent his new human heart beating wildly. In one fluid movement Adrian had Red Alert pinned against the wall.

"You're very pretty, you know," Adrian mumbled. Red Alert's throat constricted and he felt the new heart in his chest quicken more. He didn't have a launcher to make this human go away. He didn't have a gun to shoot. The world seemed to be swaying, swirling, his vision becoming impaired by fear. He concentrated on the bruise around the human's neck. It looked vaguely as if someone had tried strangling him with a rope. Like he had been hanged.

"Let me go." Red Alert said very slowly. Adrian's grip on him tightened, pressing him painfully against the wall. The human started rubbing his shoulders roughly, but it felt good, somehow. The world was still spinning on its axis.

"That's what they all say at first, but they warm up to it. They enjoy it in the end," he hissed in Red's ear. The hand pinning the Autobot-turned-human's shoulder drifted down to Red's chest and into his dress…

Oh great Primus!

Just before Red Alert could shout Adrian had him in a bruising kiss. Red Alert tried to struggle but that kind of thing is very hard when the assailant was twice one's size and had one pinned. The world rocked back and forth, twisting Red Alert's center of gravity completely. Adrian was getting rougher, and it dawned on Red Alert just how far this could go.

Suddenly, Adrian wasn't there anymore. He was sprawled on the floor with a trickle of blood coming from a cut on his head. Red Alert stared wildly at him, feeling as though his insides were turning themselves inside-out.

"How dare you touch her! How dare you attempt to force yourself upon one under my guidance! Get out, now!" The Wanderer shouted, holding up an unlit lantern threateningly. Adrian snarled and scrambled from the floor and through the corridor, disappearing from view. Red Alert just now noticed that he was holding himself and trembling, and it wasn't from the cold.

The Wanderer let out a world-weary sigh and let the lantern roll to the ground. She slowly went to Red Alert and put both arms around him.

"Shhhh, it's okay… He didn't go any farther, it's okay…" she said, gently rocking the traumatized girl/mech back and forth in time with the caravan. Normally, Red Alert would be very embarrassed and demand for The Wanderer to release him at once, but he didn't know if it was his new body's hormones affecting him or the gentle reassurance The Wanderer was offering, but he just closed his eyes and let it happen.

"Come, he wouldn't dare step foot in my room. It's easier to talk there," The Wanderer said. She put an arm on Red's back and led him to her room, and the normally paranoid beyond compare security director did nothing to encourage or discourage her.

The door clicked closed behind them and the first thing Red noticed was that the room was so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. The Wanderer led him to her bed and he sat on it silently, and he felt his guide sit next to him. There was a long silence in between them.

"I'm sorry about this happening. I knew that Adrian had a sketchy past, but I never thought that he would do something around Tobar, let alone Tobar and myself. I made you too pretty." The last sentence seemed to have a sad and regretful undertone to it. Red Alert closed his eyes briefly. "And I apologize for turning you into a girl in the first place. It was immature on my part, but I thought you were annoying." She let out a small chuckle. Red smirked.

"You're not the only one who seems to like pulling such pranks on me. I've lost count of how many times two particular comrades of mine have attempted to freeze my CPU," he said. The Wanderer let out a small laugh.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one. I promise that next time I won't turn you into a girl," she said. "Do you think you can go back to bed?"

Red Alert was quiet, visions of Adrian coming into his room turning in his head. The Wanderer was silent, and then she pulled him into a hug. Sadly, the gesture lost a bit of its comfort value with the heavy material of the burqa. She realized this.

She withdrew herself and there was a light rustle of cloth. Red Alert was hugged again, and was surprised to feel normal clothes and skin instead of a burqa. There was a slightly awkward silence and they both stepped away from each other. Red cleared his throat.

"So we never speak of this again?"

"Agreed."

Red Alert stepped out of the room, and in the brief moment that moonlight leaked into The Wanderer's room, he could've sworn he saw her step back into the shadows too fast for him to see her properly, but not fast enough to stop him from knowing he had.

Suddenly he was alone in the corridor, and he knew The Wanderer was listening for any sign that she would be needed again. He raised an eyebrow briefly. Her burqa was her barrier that kept him and others from being able to see that she was imperfect and touchable just as they were. It was her mask that said that she was ethereal, but for a split second of light Red Alert had been able to see what lay beyond that barrier.

That night, he saw past it in the metaphorical and physical sense.

With one last quizzical look towards the door he walked into his room and let the door click shut.

---

It was way too cold. There was absolutely no way this was healthy.

Perceptor was struggling valiantly against the wind, but this was made very hard because, for one, snow kept on getting in his eyes and for two, the Cordon Blue was never built to withstand this kind of weather. None of the birds they were turned into were built for this (with the possible exception of Grimlock).

As he thought this, Perceptor noticed Beachcomber beating his wings harder to get through the gale. Poor Beachcomber, a dove was not supposed to be out here. A surprisingly strong gust of wind caught the birds in an updraft and they stopped beating their wings for a moment, and for a split second Perceptor was in a free fall. He landed with a thump on a metal hand.

"I think we should stop for the night. You can't keep flying like this, birdy," Skywarp said. There were several cheeps of denial, but the owners of the cheeps were ignored.

"Aminta's cave isn't far from here. We can stay there. We need to land!" Thundercracker said. Perceptor just sat with his wings splayed on Skywarp's hand, totally exhausted. Skywarp cupped his other hand around the poor scientist-turned-bird to protect him from the oncoming snow and wind as he banked and landed on the nearly invisible ground.

"Your comrades are near. We can't involve any more people than are necessary, so we'll just turn you into humans for now. Hopefully we won't run into them at all," Thundercracker commented. Before anyone could protest, they could feel their bodies contorting to meet the seeker's demands.

Perceptor glanced around at his comrades. Cliffjumper was shouting something but it was lost in the wind. Speaking of Cliffjumper, he was a short wiry man with short red hair and bright blue eyes. A quick look around told Perceptor that all the 'bots-turned-birds-turned-humans had the same almost glowing shade of blue. Jazz was African American with oddly straight black hair and toned muscles. Bumblebee looked to be a teenager with bright blond hair and a quizzical expression on his face. Beachcomber, as usual, looked unfazed as he examined a strand of black hair. Grimlock was a big burly man with a mop of light brown hair that seemed to keep getting in his eyes. Perceptor wasn't able to see himself, but he had short light brown hair and a lean figure.

"C'mon. We have to get to Aminta's cave before one of you die of pneumonia or something," Skywarp said, placing Perceptor on his shoulder. The scientist glanced around the seeker and saw him put Jazz on his other shoulder and carry Bumblebee in his hand. Perceptor only assumed that Thundercracker was doing the same for Grimlock, Beachcomber, and Cliffjumper.

"Who is this 'Aminta'? I've heard you indicate her numerous times currently," Perceptor said.

"Have any of you watched the show 'Human Weapon'?" Thundercracker asked. Perceptor thought he heard Cliffjumper, Bumblebee, and Jazz say yes. "Well, Aminta _is_ a human weapon. She's by far the longest staying human here, and apparently she was killed in Mesopotamia at night by a bunch of thugs. The thugs were caught and killed, but she didn't stick around here for revenge. Since that night she couldn't protect herself, she pledged to learn how to fight back. Now, think about how long she's been here, think about how little she had to do with her time, and think about how fragging stubborn humans can be."

"She basically dedicated herself to learning and mastering every fighting technique known to human kind, and she's done well in reaching her goal. Really, right now she lives in a cave in these mountains, and she's fine with people staying in it. She says that any who seek refuge from her are safe from any outside influences. (It's mostly because the creatures that lurk around here don't dare try to harm anyone under her care.) We'll be safe in her home. Ah, here we are," he said just as a glow appeared through the snow. Perceptor blinked away the snow and Skywarp and Thundercracker struggled through the blizzard.

The glow turned into a camp fire burning inside of a small cave. The seekers walked inside it and sat down at the back as they had to stoop greatly to keep standing. They both let the humans slide off of them and sit around the fire. Cliffjumper glanced around and frowned.

"Well where is she? I don't see anyone," he said suspiciously. Thundercracker gave a noncommittal shrug.

"You're not likely to see her either. She's always training and only comes to sleep in the dead of night and she leaves to train more long before daytime begins. We've stayed here approximately forty-eight times and only once did I see her. Even then she doesn't talk much. She's like gravity: invisible but influential."

Cliffjumper muttered something but he turned back to the fire. Perceptor looked around and noticed that there were several animal furs arranged for someone to sleep in, as well as for someone to use for clothing. Obviously Aminta was well aware of the popularity of her cave.

The scientist looked up to see that Skywarp and Thundercracker had already gone into recharge, and his own comrades looked like they were falling asleep sitting up. He and Beachcomber exchanged glances and wordlessly ushered everyone to separate fur beds. Only after everyone was lying down did Beachcomber and Perceptor themselves go to their own beds.

Perceptor felt very warm encased in the furs, but sleep was an elusive thing. He must've slept a little, because when he woke up everyone had easy breathing and a quick glance at the cave mouth informed him that the snow was falling lighter than before.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he slowly stood up and slid on an animal skin shirt and pants that their host had left out for guests. He walked to the cave mouth and warily tested the snow's hardness. It wouldn't do if he fell through five feet of snow. Luckily, the snow was packed hard and carried his relatively light weight.

Perceptor slowly walked through the snow, following where he felt an invisible string pulling him. He was walking farther up the mountain, he vaguely noted, and he could faintly hear the sizzling of something boiling.

He came to a flat indent in the mountain. At the center of the tiny flat space was an elevated basin over a fire. He noticed a woman leaning over the bowl, hovering her hands over the bubbling liquid within. Perceptor felt a blush come to his cheeks when he realized the woman wasn't wearing any clothes.

Before he could say anything, the woman dipped her hands in the scalding liquid and rubbed it on her body. Surprisingly, few burns came up on her and she didn't so much as flinch.

When her body was shining with what Perceptor judged to be oil she straightened. That was when she saw him.

Her mouth was an 'O' of surprise, and despite himself Perceptor's eyes flicked across her body though he was careful to avoid looking at any 'personal' areas.

She was bronze skinned with dark hair and eyes. Her nose had obviously been broken several times over, and there were two grotesque scars, one in a spiral on her stomach and one that told a tale of having her throat slit from ear to ear. Perceptor assumed they were the trophies of her death. More recently, she had a scar that went into a crescent shape from the tip of her eyebrow to her cheekbone and one (Perceptor was embarrassed to note) that curved in a boomerang shape around one of her breasts. There were several other scars on her body but those four were the most profound. She wasn't entirely unattractive but the scars guaranteed she wasn't exactly pretty either.

"I-I'm sorry," Perceptor sputtered, embarrassment coloring his face and robbing him of his usually large vocabulary. "I didn't know anyone was up here…."

The woman closed her mouth and scrutinized Perceptor. Slowly, she knelt down and picked up something. It turned out to be a thin tunic and she pulled it on. Still she examined him. Gradually, she raised an arm and beckoned Perceptor forward.

"I-I truly am sorry…" Perceptor stammered as he walked towards her. She paused for a moment, raising one eyebrow, and then she sprinted towards him.

Perceptor had no time to react before he felt one of her arms go loop one of his legs from the inside and flip him to the ground. His head hit the ice painfully and the force of her blow drove her shoulder into his stomach, knocking all the wind out of him in a gasp. Before he even could adjust to this turn of events she was over him. He felt her punch his throat, really _really hard,_ twice and stars exploded across his vision as he felt his delicate human esophagus crushed under the blow.

For a scary moment he couldn't breath, and then he managed a few rasps. He waited for the woman to attack again, but she didn't.

It took several minutes for him to clear his vision, and he saw the woman sitting by his head, looking down at his face. She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow again.

"I took you down too easily. Next time, sidestep before I get to you and sweep my legs from under me. Then my own force is my downfall." She stood up and held out a hand. Perceptor warily took it and she helped him up. She allowed a small smile grace her face but it faded away quickly.

"I assume you are Aminta?" Perceptor said through his bruised throat, brushing snow off of his clothes.

"Indeed," she said. She turned to the basin and looked into it. Perceptor followed suit, seeing boiling coconut oil inside.

"Doesn't it cause harm to your person to touch that?" the scientist asked. Aminta chuckled.

"That is the point." And she said nothing more. There was a pause, and Perceptor could swear he heard wind chimes in the distance.

_"Never look back because it hurts.  
My heart is so cold  
I feel the frost,  
never look back."_

"What is that?" Perceptor asked. Aminta glanced down the mountain without much interest.

"The Sirens have gotten another victim," she said simply. She touched her crescent scar idly as though thinking.

"If you do not mind my inquisition, how did you come by the name 'Aminta'? You are Mesopotamian, are you not?" Perceptor asked. Aminta nodded distractedly.

"Yes, Aminta was not my original name. It was given to me by a Latin man, a long time ago," she said. When she offered no elaboration, Perceptor turned to go.

"Well, I apologize again for my intrusion. I'll just leave…." But he stopped when Aminta grasped his arm in a strong grip. For a moment, their eyes met and she was examining him again.

"Be careful around here. Your allies aren't telling you everything. This is much bigger than you can imagine." She let Perceptor's arm go. "We are on the brink of war, and I fear what it shall mean for the living."

The wind picked up and there was a short flurry of snow. As soon as the flurry ended, Aminta was gone.

A/N

Finally! FINALLY IT'S THERE!

I'm so sorry it took me a while. Just remember that, if it ever is on hiatus, I will tell you. I'm not randomly going to drop this story. -grins-

Okay, Maieve Avvi beta'd this story and Transformers belong to Hasbro. Capice? Capice.

And review please! :D


	12. Shake Me, Break Me, Rip My Heart Out

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe came to slowly. The first thing that they noticed was that someone was desperately rubbing one of each of their arms to warm them up. Sideswipe vaguely noted that he heard muffled voices.

"I think they're waking up!" someone exclaimed.

_Bluestreak?_ one of the twins blearily thought, and in their hazy state of mind neither knew which one thought it.

"C'mon guys… please pull through… Ceria said that not everyone comes back after a Siren attack, but you guys have to come back! You have to…"

_The music… it's not there anymore. Where did it go?_

_They've stopped singing, Sunny. They've stopped singing._

_They were singing just a moment ago… I heard them in my sleep. Maybe we'd hear them again if we slept._

_You aren't thinking straight, Sunny. You know that we'll die if we sleep more._

_We'd hear them in death. You and I know. We could still hear them, Sides._

_What about Bluestreak?_

_What about him?_

_He's lost everything, Sunny. His town, a lot of his friends, and Prowl… Remember how upset he was when Prowl died?_

_He refused to leave his room for several orns. I remember._

_What would happen to him if we left on top of that?_

_…_

_And besides, you **know** that Prowl, Ratchet, and Ironhide would beat our afts into a second oblivion if we flittered off with them to the Matrix then left him to fend for himself._

_Yeah, I guess that I can't leave Blue, but the music…_

_Sunny, I want it just as much as you, but we have to snap out of it!_

_Fine, fine._

And just like that, the twins broke away from the Siren's spell.

---

Optimus warily relayed the grim news to Kup and Blurr, and neither liked what they heard. Kup frowned as he held his chin.

_"Who was destroyed? We have to know who became a casualty,"_ he said. Optimus translated the question.

_"How should we know? I can't tell you all apart, part."_

_"Oh! I think I know. But we can't tell, that'd ruin the surprise."_

_"Three whites, a yellow, a purple, and a red, but who's keeping track?"_

_"Don't worry, you won't miss them, them."_

_"I miss anyone under my command," _Optimus said sharply.

_"Not these ones. You've finished your missing already. You won't notice if they're less of them around."_

Optimus grimaced, realizing he wasn't going to get anything out of the Insecticons. Bombshell idly examined the paint on his arms and Shrapnel distractedly pulled a tiny piece of metal and made a very tiny Kickback. Kickback and Shrapnel entertained themselves by watching the little clone.

"They aren't elaborating at all. They only said the color of the Autobots' armor, and said that we 'wouldn't miss them'," Optimus said.

"They're certainly more docile than usual," Kup commented. Blurr said something so fast that no one could understand him, but he didn't repeat himself. Optimus sighed, and glanced at his two comrades. They thought that they could hide it, but Optimus could tell easily that they weren't comfortable. He had a feeling it had something to do with the language he was speaking.

_"Can you bring us to our comrades?"_

_"Which ones?"_

Optimus furrowed his metallic brow._ "What do you mean, 'which ones'?"_

_"Like we said, which ones? You've got, about, three groups of your comrades not including your own running around. We can bring you to one group, and the others should have a guide, guide."_

_"We have to inform everyone at the base of what is going to happen." _

_"Mazes! Mazes! You can't get to your world before Unicron is gone."_

_"Well can you please get us to our comrades?"_ Optimus was starting to get to the end of his endless rope of patience.

_"We'll take to the Snow Mountains, either Aminta the Human Weapon or Istas the Siren will greet you. Perhaps it won't even be them, but Sahara the Wanderer or even They Who Need Finding. It seems like everyone is congregating."_ Kickback wasn't talking as he normally did. Come to think of it, none of them were able to go this long without a jibe or use this eloquence in words. What happened to the crude, manipulative Insecticons that every Autobot loved to hate?

_"If that is where at least one group of Autobots is, we will go with you," _Optimus said warily.

_"Well, with any luck, two will be there. Come on, come on! We haven't all day."_

The Insecticons jumped up and gestured for the Autobots to follow them enthusiastically. Kup and Blurr flashed Optimus a curious look and Optimus quickly explained what was happening.

"WhyshouldwetrustthemOptimustheyareabunchoflousynogoodInsecticoncreepsandtheymightbeleadingusintoatrapand-"

"They are the only ones who know where they are," Optimus cut in, "and, whether we like it or not, we need them."

Blurr grumbled something and Kup just eyed the Insecticons distrustfully, but they all followed in the end.

---

Red Alert woke up abruptly when the caravan clattered over a very big bump in the road. He hopefully felt his head for the nubs of his sensors, hoping that it was all a dream, but his heart fell slightly when he felt human hair. He sighed and slid out of bed, but not before doing a quick check under and over for anyone who came in the night.

Finding no one, Red Alert quickly undid all of the traps he had set to warn him of any uninvited guests and walked into the hallway.

It was still dark out, Red Alert was beginning to wonder if it _ever_ was anything but, then he heard voices coming from the kitchen.

"…He did what?!..." There was a thump.

"…Calm yourself Tobar…"

"…I will not! He comes into my caravan… thief of a woman's virtue… if it would do anything I would hang him in a town square…"

"… He didn't go any farther, I stopped him…"

"… And he will never go farther, with any woman…"

Red Alert felt a small, foreign-feeling blush crawl onto his cheeks. He knew what they were talking about. His ears perked when he heard the clatter of a door.

"What's with all the shouting?"

"Nothing Ho-, ah, Hugh."

Red Alert leaned against the wall and listened as Hot Rod served himself breakfast, and the Dinobots came in soon after. Red judged it to be safe to enter the kitchen, finally, and he slipped inside.

Everything was relatively cheerful. Hot Rod was talking to Swoop and The Wanderer animatedly, the rest of the Dinobots were talking to each other. Tobar seemed to have excused himself, and Red Alert had a small inkling as to what he was doing.

"Hey Red, how did you sleep?" Hot Rod asked when he noticed the now-female security director.

"Not so well, I'm afraid," Red Alert said simply, offering no explanation. That was when all Pit broke loose.

"You're awake!"

The twins found themselves suddenly enveloped in a suffocating hug. Sunstreaker did his best not to choke as he wheezed out, "Blue… can't breath…"

The grip loosened. "Sorry, sorry…"

Bluestreak let the poor disorientated twins go and Sideswipe took the chance to quickly look around at the cave they were inside. It was barren, and the wind howled at the mouth. But the fire was crackling and the rock formations glowed faintly, adding to the light. Two blood-stained girls were watching with little expressions of awe.

"Blue? What happened, where are we, and who the slag are those two?" Sideswipe asked, gesturing to girls.

"Well, you got caught by the Sirens. They sort of buried you in the ice, and then we all got you out and dragged you to a nearby cave. It's not as good as Aminta's but it'll have to do… And as for who we are, I'm Ciera and this is Kelly," the braided girl said.

"Hi!" Kelly greeted. Suddenly, the world seemed to shudder and convulse on its axis.

The caravan rocked violently, and for a moment everything was upside down. Red Alert let out a yelp as he began to fall to the ceiling, but the caravan twisted right side up again. For a moment Red was suspended in the air, along with several others, and he fell in an unceremonious heap.

The wood groaned in protest and the mist squeezed the caravan between insubstantial fingers. Slag gripped a window and stuck his head out.

"What happening?" he asked loudly. There was a crash from the front rooms.

"Aleta! Unicron, he is meddling!" Tobar shouted from the place where the crash originated. The caravan twisted again and The Wanderer smashed against the wall.

"Everyone out!" she shouted. Hot Rod had to scrabble at the floor to reach the door.

"How? It won't open!" he shouted, rattling the door. Something outside was wailing very loudly, something that wasn't human or Cybertronian in nature.

"Through the window!"

An invisible force ripped chunks of wood from around the window. Hands reflexively went up to protect their owner's faces. Red Alert felt like he was being sucked into a vacuum in space, and suddenly, he was.

He removed his hands from his face to look around. He looked up and saw the caravan suspended in space, and he was falling away from it. The only thing filling up the space around everything was a mist with a purple tinge, yet he could still see the caravan clearly until it was just a speck above him, and then, it wasn't even that.

Red Alert curled into a cannon ball shape, even though he couldn't tell if he was falling anymore. The mist never changed, and there was no wind to tell him he was going down. He was either floating or falling, or maybe both, because not even the laws of physics seemed to apply anymore…

Just as he thought it, Red felt himself fall against something very solid with a dull 'thunk' sound. He looked down to see that he landed on some sort of thick, yet totally clear plastic window looking into Metroplex's rec. room.

And the inhabitants of that room were staring at him strangely…

Red Alert pressed his hands against the plastic and stared right back, almost as if he were worried that the window would disappear and he would float around in this misty nothingness forever.

One of the mechs in the room stood up from his seat slowly and walked up to the window. Red never thought he'd be so happy to see his friend's face.

"Inferno?" he asked hopefully. Inferno's optics got huge and his mouth fell open when he recognized the mysterious girl's voice.

"Red? You're a…"

"I'm female, I know!" Red Alert groaned.

"How did you get like that? Where are you?" Inferno asked, pressing his hands against the other side of the window.

"The Wanderer made me like this, I don't know how. I don't know where I am or where the others are. I don't know anything anymore!" Red could feel himself slipping into panic.

"Calm down, Red! Who's The Wanderer? And if you don't know where you are, just describe the place. We could try to find it," Hoist said, coming from behind Inferno.

"The Wanderer is… She's… You know, I don't really know who she is. We got to Vector Sigma, there was this terrible scream coming from within it, and suddenly Hot Rod, the Dinobots and I were in a forest and she turned up. She said that she was our guide and she had to give us proper disguise, so she turned us all human (though I was the only girl). She then took us to a gypsy caravan and we spent the night there. This morning something weird happened and Tobar, the owner of the caravan, mentioned Unicron. I fell out of the window and now here I am," Red said, a quizzical expression growing on his face. He noticed similar expressions appearing on his friends' faces.

"You spent the night? Red, you haven't been gone one night. You've been gone for two weeks!" Inferno said.

"What?"

"He's right. You and the others have been gone for two weeks. We tried looking for you, but Vector Sigma wouldn't allow us into the maze!" Hoist said.

"This doesn't make sense…" Red Alert's eyes sharpened. "The Wanderer must've known. I knew something wasn't right. She has a lot of explaining to do when I get my hands on her."

Suddenly, Red felt the space around him shudder and squeeze him. He let out a gasp of air and writhed in the invisible grip.

"Red? Red!" Inferno pounded both fists against the window, but it didn't shudder or break. Red Alert struggled for breath, but despite his greatest efforts, he felt his delicate human lungs almost bursting and his face was turning varying shades of blue and purple. Cracks sounded from his ribcage and pain shot through his nervous system. Inferno abandoned fists and just started shooting at the window, and Hoist and previously on looking Autobots joined in, yet the thick plastic wasn't even scratched.

A portal appeared beneath Red Alert, and he was thrown unceremoniously to what he assumed to be his death, and the window winked out of existence.

---

There was a huge ripping sound and Ciera, Kelly, Bluestreak, and the twins had to cover their ears or audio receptors respectively to block it out.

A vertical black disk appeared in the air and a limp rag doll-like body was thrown hard against the stone wall, and whoever it was slid to the floor with a groan. Three different disks appeared and from one, a heavily cloaked human fell against the floor with a surprised yelp, from another a man fell against a stalagmite, and from the last a small group of people fell to the floor in a heap. After that, the disks disappeared and the noise stopped. Kelly and Ciera were fast to shake it off, and the latter bent over the cloaked figure.

"How now Wanderer. Whither away?"

"Where did you pick that up?" the cloaked figure asked.

"I had a conversation with a harpy."

"That will do it."

The woman stood up and brushed dirt off of her clothes, a burqa, and quickly glanced around.

"Well, everyone is here and accounted for. We were lucky Tobar had been able to drop us off here despite the complications."

The woman brushed a little more dirt off of her burqa. The three Autobots looked at her strangely.

"Where did you come from?" Sunstreaker finally asked. The woman looked up at him (though it was hard to tell without seeing her face).

"Oh, I forgot that you don't know me. I am The Wanderer, and these are comrades of yours," she said, gesturing to the humans moaning on the ground.

"We only have a few human comrades, and I don't see any of them," Sideswipe pointed out. A small blond boy crawled from the pile of humans and sat up, rubbing his head.

"Me, Swoop, don't know what happened. Can Wanderer tell Swoop why we now in cave with other Autobots?" he asked. The three mechs raised their optic ridges.

"It's very complicated, Swoop. For now, do you think you could wake up the other Dinobots?" The Wanderer said. Swoop looked quizzical but he set about waking up his 'brothers.' He didn't succeed as he had hit his head harder than he thought and he opted to join them in sleep instead.

"To answer the question you are probably dying to ask, I turned them into humans. I will undo this, however, as soon as they all are alert," The Wanderer said. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked at each other, then they both leaned over the female human.

"Is this Arcee then? I can't really think of any other femmes that would turn up with us… Or maybe Elita, Chromia, Moonracer, and Firestar but they generally go with each other…" Sideswipe nudged the female with a finger carefully. The femme moaned and opened her eyes, bringing up one hand to shield from the little light that came from the fire. As soon as she saw the twins, however, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You two! I should've known you were behind this. What did you do to make my dream functions show…" that was when she caught a glance of her own hand, and then the dress she was wearing. "Oh. It wasn't a dream."

"Wha-? You don't _sound_ like Arcee…" Sunstreaker noted. The femme glared at him.

"Of course I don't. It's Red Alert!"

The mechs' optics got almost too big for their faces.

"Red?!" Sideswipe gripped the femme/mech by the back of his dress and brought the increasingly irate security director to face level.

"Yes, it's me. Put me down."

Sideswipe ignored his request and opted to continue staring at him open-mouthed. Sunstreaker had one raised optic ridge and seemed to be trying to digest the sight in front of him. Bluestreak was the only one not struck speechless.

"Wow Red, is that really you? I mean, you're a human girl now, well, I guess you already know that but you're actually a really pretty human girl and no offense but you are the last Autobot I'd be able to think of as a girl, well, maybe not the last. It's harder to think of, say, Optimus or Kup as a girl and wow I just got the weirdest mental images stuck in my CPU at that…"

"Blue?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Yeah?"

"Just stop talking. I don't need you to share those mental images."

"Okay."

"Could you please put him down?" The Wanderer asked from the ground, gesturing to a highly annoyed Red Alert. Only now did Sideswipe see the expression on the security director's face and he quickly put him down.

"Okay Red, brace yourself," The Wanderer said, holding up her hands. Before Red Alert had a chance to react, his body began to morph.

Red Alert stood to his, (now thankfully,) normal height without missing a beat and checked over himself.

"Thank Primus. I was worried I would get used to being female," he muttered, and he had a small surge of relief when he heard his normal male voice coming out of his normal metal voice processor.

"I wouldn't have kept you a girl forever. I'm not that mean. (Okay, maybe I am, but I don't want to annoy someone with a lot of connections in an alien military too much,)" The Wanderer teased lightly.

"Wha-? What… what happened?" Hot Rod asked, just coming to a lucid state.

"Glitch in reality through a deceiver messing in things he shouldn't," The Wanderer said dismissively. "Now, I'm going to turn you back to your original form now…"

Hot Rod turned back into a transformer faster than Red had (and Red had turned back fast).

"Am I the only one who thinks that it is weird that she can turn you guys into transformers and humans at will?" Sunstreaker asked incredulously.

"Oh, we can do that too," Kelly said, waving away Sunstreaker's disbelief of the situation.

"Everyone here can do it. The Sirens, us, The Harpies, They Who Wait, The Temptress… everyone, really," Ciera said, shrugging.

"That is not all that is strange about this place," Red Alert said, optics narrowing. "When I fell out of the caravan, I was able to have a brief conversation with Inferno and Hoist. They informed me that we have been here for two weeks."

"Wait, what?" Hot Rod asked.

"We've only been gone for a little more than a day," Blue commented nervously.

"Ignoring the fact I have no clue what you're talking about with the caravan, what would cause that sort of time mess-up?" Sideswipe asked. All optics went straight to The Wanderer, Kelly, and Ciera. The two girls exchanged glances while the woman cleared her throat.

"Quite simple, really. You have been gone that long, but haven't realized it. In this place… you can't always tell how much time has past. Seconds may literally be years to you, and vice versa. The catch is that time isn't constant; sometimes it's not constant in two separate places, even. In the time we have spoken, the first seconds may have been a few days, the next ten minutes hours, and the entire conversation lasting years. Some of us can tell the time as it passes, and some, though it takes much training and discipline, can control how quickly time passes around them. People like Aminta slowed time so that they would have thousands of years to do a certain task. Time is mostly a personal matter here, time passes at a different speed for places, and sometimes it's different per person. I'm really no expert on this, so that's probably the best I can give you," The Wanderer said slowly.

"Are you telling me that we could have been gone for thousands of years by now?" Sunstreaker asked in a dangerously soft voice.

"Don't worry, you haven't," Kelly spoke up.

"How do you know, Kelly?" Blue asked while the twins looked on skeptically.

"Kelly and I keep track of how much time passes in your world for… our own reasons. It was hard at first but it gets easier as you get the hang of it. Right now, you can add another week to your total count, but time slowed down a bit so hopefully you won't run into anymore bursts," Ciera said.

"There has been one question you have been dodging all along," Red Alert said, optics sharp. "Where are we? All you have said is that we are in another world."

The tenseness, already a little uncomfortable, went through the roof. Ciera and Kelly sat on the cave floor in unison and crossed their arms, saying without words that they weren't going to speak anymore. Red Alert could swear he heard The Wanderer dash inside of her shell and clam up so fast she was spinning (metaphorically, of course).

"Does it need a name?" she asked. Her prim, immobile, _untouchable_ voice was back.

Red Alert felt an unexplained jab of hurt at The Wanderer's reversion, but with some confusion he pushed it away. "If not a name, an explanation. You call yourselves this world's inhabitants, you say that it has a separate and seemingly sporadic system of time, and you say that you as its _inhabitants_ can control the form of not only yourself but those and that which surrounds you. In the many planets and worlds I have visited, every one had time that was consistent with every other planet, and while I have met beings that could shape shift, I have never met a being that could change the form of another being, let alone change the genus and the chemical makeup of that being, and, not only that, but they are human as well! Humans can't do any of that without artificial means," he said, making his tone just as cold and biting. The twins exchanged startled glances at the security director's mannerisms.

_Am I the only one who thinks we missed something here?_ Sunstreaker submitted to his brother over their bond.

_Nope. Primus damn it, the one time where teasing is seriously uncalled for…_

_Who says it's uncalled for?_

_Well, we have to wait until this conversation is over. Even then we might have to wait a bit._

_Right, right._

The Wanderer's face was unreadable, and slowly turned to the still-unconscious Dinobots and turned them back into Cybertronians one by one.

"I see no reason to give you _any_ explanations. You were not supposed to be here in the first place, nor were you or any of your kind supposed to meddle in these affairs. You are a burden, and I am simply supposed to take you to your world where you will be gone and out of the way," she said coldly. "You are simply machines. I don't have to explain myself to you." It didn't take a genius to figure out to whom her last comment was directed at.

There was silence. Bluestreak nervously looked back and forth between the human and the security director. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exchanged slightly horrified glances. Hot Rod just looked down, surprised, at the woman. Even Kelly and Ciera, who hadn't moved since the fateful question had been asked, had their jaws drop open briefly in shock.

Red Alert worked his metal jaw, glaring down at The Wanderer. Each word had cut into him like a blast from the late Megatron's fusion cannon. He clenched his fists and narrowed his optics into slits before saying, "Well if that is how you feel, I apologize for being such an unwelcome inconvenience. If you wish to keep your secret, fine, keep it. You may just bring us back to our world and we can split ways and forget each other ever existed, and you may go back to whatever you were doing and we will stop meddling in whatever affairs we seemed to have interfered in." He walked to the mouth of the cave where a blizzard was beginning to brew. "I'm going to go clear my circuits. I trust you don't object?" Before anyone had a chance to respond, he had walked out into the white oblivion.

A/N

I'm really sorry for the wait, guys. There were technical errors with the betaing, and then I forgot I had it for a while after my wonderful beta, Maieve Avvi, sent it. I have no clue what happened to me, there. Well, this is one of my favorite chapters so far, so please read and review. (Jesus. The Wanderer's a bitch, huh?)

Disclaimer: Yeah, me? I don't own anything. If I did, I would have whipped the Transformers Animated crew into shape a while ago and the third season would have been out in September.


End file.
